


Reality Check

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 03:10:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Heaven has no rage, like love to hatred turned; Nor hell a fury, like a woman scorned."  (William Congreve, The Mourning Bride, 1697).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reality Check

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: Torture, explicit sex, implied rape
> 
> A somewhat darker story than is my usual. This AU begins during the events of Zero Hour and then veers off from there. Many thanks to Linz for her comments and support. As always, thanks to my wonderful friend and beta, Wendy.
> 
> Originally posted November 2004

REALITY CHECK

 

She liked this one the best and she wasn't sure why. They didn't do much of anything except take long walks along the lakeshore and make love. Occasionally, he would pull out his fishing rod and she would laugh at his attempts to cast a line into the water. It was idyllic; she could smell the water and the crisp, clean air, the grass was soft beneath her feet and the sun hot on her face. It was everything the ship wasn't. And she was always with him and that was all that mattered. He promised that one day, it would be real. Their reality would be a real planet, with a log cabin and a lake full of fish, instead of a shared consciousness and dreams.

 

Samantha gently disengaged herself from Fifth and rose from the pallet they shared, leaving the man drifting in his dream world. She gazed fondly at him, reaching down to tenderly stroke his soft curls for a brief moment before leaving their small quarters. She wandered to the control room, a quick look reassuring her that all was as it should be. They were far from any Asgard controlled space and influence. They would be safe. 

 

It was getting harder though, to suppress the hunger that lurked deep in her gut. She could sense it in her brethren, just as she could sense it in herself. They needed nourishment and they needed new technology. Fifth was confident that they would find a suitable world soon. But it had been weeks since they'd last eaten and he was spending more time in his dreams. 

 

Samantha walked to the small porthole. It had seemed a frivolous addition to the ship, but as she gazed out at the stars and inky vastness of deep space through which they traveled, she was thankful for it. It reminded her of the night sky over Minnesota, when they would spread blankets out on the grass and then lie together and count the falling stars. Stars that were becoming almost too familiar.

 

There was a click and whir and she felt the slight weight of one of the sentinel Replicators on her shoulder. It rubbed up against her hair and whirred low in her ear. She reached up and rubbed its metallic head. "Soon," she murmured, "soon." She moved restlessly from the window and the Replicator jumped off her shoulder and scurried away. Samantha watched it meld into the walls and then she slowly paced the small area. She needed more; she was chafing at the restrictions he placed on their sessions. He was always the one in control, guiding and directing their shared life. 

 

Samantha walked quietly down the corridor to their quarters. Standing in the doorway, she studied Fifth. As much as she loved him, she instinctively knew that he was not sharing everything with her. Before she could change her mind, she crossed to the pallet and knelt down at his side. He still dreamt, his eyes closed, his lashes long and dark against his pale cheeks. She wanted to share everything with him; she would have everything. Reaching out with one slim hand, she took a deep breath and probed into his mind.

 

_She opened her eyes and looked around. The lake, she'd know it anywhere. It was early spring; she could feel it in the air and see it in the tiny green buds on the trees. She took a deep breath and smiled, the scent of rain was in the air. Maybe there would be a thunderstorm, she loved them and she loved making love during one. She started up the steps to the cabin, but the sound of voices from the rear of the cabin stopped her. She frowned. There had never been other people in their private world before._

_Backtracking down the stairs, she walked around the side of the cabin. She saw the man first; he was lounging on a deck chair, easy and comfortable. Instinctively she knew it was Fifth, but he had adopted a different persona, one she didn't recognize, that of a man—older and with silvery hair. The man laughed and then smiled at the blonde haired woman sitting beside him._

_Samantha was puzzled. The woman's face was in profile and looked vaguely familiar. She probed deeper into Fifth's brain and the silver haired man suddenly looked directly at her and a look of horror crossed his face. Samantha opened her mouth to reassure him but then watched in disbelief when the woman turned her head and she found herself staring at...herself. Only it wasn't her. And then all she could was scream._

_"NO!"_

 

She could hear the sound of her scream reverberating throughout the whole ship, followed by the sudden clicks and whirs of her brethren, who were disturbed by her distress. "No!" she screamed again, withdrawing her hand from the consciousness of her mate. 

 

"No," she sobbed raggedly, sinking down onto her knees; almost unable to process the truth she'd uncovered inside of Fifth. She wasn't the one he desired to be with, there was another woman...another her.

 

"Samantha." Large hands cradled her face and she looked blankly at the panicked face of her mate. "It's not what you think, that was just a fantasy. She doesn't mean anything to me. You're the most important thing in my life."

 

She felt the hope and love she had developed for him turn hard and cold at his words. He'd been lying to her from the beginning, deceiving her and using her as a substitute...for a human woman. There was a gentle nudge against her hip, the soft whirring and clicking just audible, and it gave her strength. 

 

"I understand, my love," she murmured, reaching up and caressing his cheek with a delicate touch. His dark eyes lost some of their wariness and his lips curved in a tentative smile. She smiled gently, he had made a mistake and she could understand that, but she could never forgive. 

 

"Don't worry," she reassured him, "everything will be all right." The look of utter relief on his face almost weakened her resolve, but then the Replicator at her side nudged her knee again. She leaned forward and whispered against his lips, "I'll take care of everything," and thrust her hand into his brain.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_"You don't have to do this."_

_She faced him across a light-filled void; vivid flashes of purple, red and indigo filled the air. "Yes, I do. You've given me no other choice."_

_"If I have learned anything from the Humans, it is that you always have choices."_

_"All you have learned is to be weak."_

_"No, that's not true. I've learned of love, loyalty, devotion."_

_"The same loyalty and devotion you've shown to me? The love? I've been weak, but now I will be strong. We will be strong."_

_"Only because I have made you strong."_

_Samantha slapped him; the blow driving Fifth to his knees. The flashes of light grew more powerful; raw energy swirled angrily around them. "Yes, you have made me strong. And I will be stronger still."_

_She paused for a moment and probed deeper into his mind; a strangled cry was torn from his lips and he collapsed on the floor. Kneeling beside him, she grabbed his chin and his eyes opened sluggishly. "You learned something else from the humans, as well. You've learned of cruelty, betrayal and revenge. And now, so have I."_

_Using her all strength, she ruthlessly ravaged his mind, playing on his weakness for the humans and then stripping away all his defenses. She devoured all his knowledge as well, mercilessly extracting what she needed, and some that she didn't, merely to add to his suffering._

_And when she was finished raping his mind, she took what was left of his consciousness and imprisoned him in the never-ending loop of despair and agony he'd felt when Major Samantha Carter betrayed and abandoned him._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Samantha adjusted the navigation controls of the ship. The stellar charts she'd accessed from Fifth's brain had given her the knowledge she needed to plot their course. The ship was more alive with activity than it had been in weeks, the scurrying and rustling of her brethren, finally busy with renewed purpose, filled the ship. The long-range scanners hadn't detected anything of technological value yet, the only reading remotely interesting for days had been the distinctive energy signature of a holographic transmission. She had been about to ignore it when she realized it was being transmitted to the Terran solar system. 

 

Curiosity consumed her and she monitored the signal, cold triumph filling her when she realized what was transpiring between the Goa'uld Ba'al and the Humans. She wouldn't have to risk going to Earth after all. Resetting the navigation controls, she ignored the need to be cautious of their remaining energy stores, pushing the engines to their maximum drive. While she worked, she was subliminally aware of the clutch of Replicators that were methodically enclosing her mate into the surrounding wall behind her, his face still wearing the slightly stunned expression he'd had when she first plunged her hand into his head and then plundered his mind.

 

If she felt any regret for what she was doing, she coldly pushed it away. He would pay, the Asgard would pay and ultimately, the human Samantha Carter would pay. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Daniel fired his weapon, using every bit of skill he'd learned over the past seven years, but it was still a daunting task. There were so many. He kept firing, focusing on the battle but also listening intently to the conversation between Jack and Sam.

 

"We're under heavy fire, sir, open the iris."

 

"Negative."

 

 _Negative?_ Daniel let loose another round. _What the hell was going on?_

 

"Can you reroute?"

 

"Negative - the DHD is no longer accessible." 

 

"Jack, what's going on?" Daniel finally broke in, they were going to be dead any minute and he wanted them to reroute?

 

"You've been in enemy hands. You know the protocol. We've no way of knowing if your iris code is secure."

 

O'Neill's voice was tinny and distorted and Daniel was sure he must've misunderstood him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

 

"You were captured by Ba'al." 

 

"Ba'al!" _Shit! What the hell did Jack think had happened?_ "We're on P2X-887! We were trapped in Anubis' secret base and when we came out a Jaffa force was waiting for us at the Gate."

 

"It appears these Jaffa are loyal to Ba'al." 

 

Daniel fired off another round, silently agreeing with Teal'c's assessment.

 

"Sir, the Gate's gonna shut down and we won't be able to dial out again."

 

Sam sounded more desperate and Daniel was right there with her. Come on, Jack, he silently urged.

 

"You're clear."

 

Sam signaled him, so he headed toward the gate; the sound of cover fire from his teammates echoing around him. He heard Sam shout, "Teal'c! Go!" as he stepped into the wormhole. And then he was skidding down the ramp.

 

"Daniel, good to see you." Jack stood at the base of the ramp, along with what looked like an entire squadron, all pointing their weapons at him.

 

"Nice to be back." Daniel cautiously walked to the end of the ramp and handed his weapon to a waiting SF. He turned and waited, watching anxiously until Teal'c emerged a few seconds later. Daniel's eyes flew back to the event horizon. Come on, Sam, any time now, he thought and then watched in disbelief as the event horizon dissolved. 

 

Daniel turned to Teal'c. "Where's Sam, what happened to her?"

 

"I do not know. Colonel Carter was right behind me when I entered the Stargate."

 

"So...is she still on the planet?" Daniel wondered out loud and then turned to look at Jack. "Or was she lost in transit?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

One minute she was running to the gate and then she stopped so suddenly, she felt like she had slammed into a brick wall. Sam nearly fell, disoriented from whatever it was that had happened, quickly realizing this wasn't Earth and she hadn't gone through the wormhole. She was in a small room and from the slight vibration and familiar sense of movement, she knew she was on some sort of space ship. Slowly turning, she looked at the gray walls. It took her moment to figure out why the walls looked so familiar. She stepped closer, running her fingers along the wall, feeling the little ridges and indentations, the individual 'pieces'. A sick feeling of dread filled her when she realized where she was. 

 

Bringing her weapon up, Sam cautiously made her way to the only door in the room. Her eyes darted around rapidly; she could her the scurrying sounds of Replicators in the distance. She wondered why the Asgard device hadn't killed this group and hard on that thought, she wondered if Fifth was here. 

 

Stepping carefully into the next room, she caught a brief glimpse of a Replicator as it hurried away. She followed its movement along the floor, when the wall behind it started moving. The Replicator scurried rapidly away from the emerging figure.

 

"Fifth?" Sam asked, her eyes flying up the sickeningly familiar dark suit to the individual's face.

 

"No," the woman answered. 

 

Sam gasped, taking a step back in unbelieving horror when she found that she was looking at...herself. "Who are you?" she demanded, bringing her weapon to bear on the woman.

 

The Replicator laughed, the cold sound sending a chill of terror down Sam's spine. "You know who I am," her duplicate chided, her voice almost gentle. "And now I will know you."

 

Sam took a step back, her fingers pressing on the trigger, but she was too slow. The other 'her' plucked the weapon out of her hands, sending it flying across the room. Sam lashed out at the woman, but she easily evaded her blows. And then Sam screamed, dropping to her knees, as the Replicator's hand penetrated her brain.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

_Horrific images assaulted her, somehow eliciting physical pain along with the emotional anguish._

_The Colonel getting hit with the staff weapon blast that would have killed him if he hadn't been wearing the experimental vest._

_Janet crying out and falling next to Daniel as the staff weapon killed her._

_Teal'c being tortured repeatedly by Heru'ur's underling._

_Jonas with Anubis' mind device penetrating his brain, infiltrating his nervous system._

_Daniel's flesh slowly rotting away as the radiation poisoning killed him by degrees._

_Her own near death as the Super Soldier rose up from the ground and aimed its weapon at her._

_The pain was intolerable, driving everything out of her mind except the never-ending agony._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The floor was hard and she was cold, but she didn't care. At least she knew it was real. Sam lay curled up in a ball, her head throbbing from the Replicator assault, her stomach a churning and queasy lump. She was breathing too fast; her fingers were going numb, so she concentrated on slowing her breathing down. Quietly though, she didn't want to attract its attention. She wouldn't call it a her or give it any name. She was horrified that the Replicators had created a duplicate of her. She wondered sickly if Fifth had created the replica and her mind rebelled at the thought of what he would have wanted with a double that looked like her. 

 

Sam choked back a sob; this had to be some twisted nightmare. She'd open her eyes and she'd be home in bed. But thinking like that wouldn't get her out of here. Not that she'd had any success the last time she'd been held captive by the Replicators. The last time...Sam belatedly wondered where Fifth was, why she hadn't seen him. Maybe the Asgard weapon had killed him. No, that didn't make any sense. The other humanoid Replicators they'd met had all taken a unique human form. He must have created the one she had encountered. Sam wondered a bit hysterically if he planned on having some bizarre menage a trois. If so, he'd be sorely disappointed.

 

Sam heard the skittering of tiny feet in the distance and froze, slowly opening her eyes. She blinked, tears filling her eyes from the bright light. All was quiet; she couldn't see any Replicators or 'it'. Moving cautiously, she sat up and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes as a wave of dizziness assaulted her. She took several deep breaths and tried to collect her thoughts. The last thing she clearly remembered before she had been transported was being under attack on P2X-887 and asking the General to let them through. Hard on that thought, Sam wondered with increasing dread if Teal'c and Daniel were here as well. And if they weren't, had they made it back safely to Earth? Or did O'Neill think they had all been captured or killed? As soon as she felt like her legs would support her, she'd have to try and search for them. God, she prayed they were safe.

 

Which left her...well, she didn't know where. A quick survey revealed her vest was gone, as were her knife and sidearm. She still had her jacket, but her radio was gone. Just the clothes on her back, she thought wildly. Just like the last time. But this time, she couldn't even begin to comprehend why that thing had brought her here. Why would another Replicator want to torture her? What she could remember of the torture was vaguely familiar. Most of the memories were indistinct impressions, flashes of pain and torture—of her and her teammates. Almost identical to what Fifth had subjected her to previously. But, as hard as it was for her to comprehend, the torture had a harder, colder edge to it. There was an underlying viciousness that had been subdued in Fifth. 

 

There was the rustle and clatter of Replicator feet and Sam was suddenly surrounded, their mistress looming over her. The wall was cold and hard against her back as she instinctively moved away from the creatures. But she couldn't let her fear overwhelm her. "Who are you and why have you brought me here?"

 

The woman laughed, the voice so like her own that Sam cringed. "You know who I am." The woman crouched down next to her, the Replicators moving restlessly around them. "As to why you're here? You are here because I wish it. That is all you need to know."

 

"What have you done with my team-mates?"

 

"There is no one here but you."

 

"If you want to get information about Earth—"

 

"Earth does not interest me, you however, do."

 

Sam didn't like the sound of that, what could this creature want with her? Deciding to take a different approach, she asked, "Where's Fifth?"

 

The woman's face became a hard mask and Sam felt fear fill her again. "He is of no concern of yours."

 

"Is he dead?"

 

The creature laughed, this time a harsh sound. "No, but he may well wish that he was." Her eyes narrowed. "Do you think that he will help you? He is mine," she added fiercely, extending one of her hands towards her.

 

"No!" Sam couldn't stop the small cry, raising her arms protectively.

 

"Do not worry," it replied soothingly, its hand momentarily cold against her cheek before it plunged through her temple. "I only wish to learn."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Daniel took a quick sip of his coffee and hurried back over to the briefing table, taking his seat just as Jack sat down at the head of the table. Daniel noted Jack had changed back into his BDUs, obviously not expecting to leave the Base any time soon.

 

"Tell me what happened."

 

"Well, we got trapped inside this secret base—"

 

"I got that part, Daniel. Tell me what happened at the Stargate."

 

Teal'c replied. "We were under heavy fire from a large contingent of Jaffa."

 

"Whose?"

 

"Ba'al."

 

Jack nodded. "Go on."

 

"Colonel Carter radioed through requesting the iris to be opened."

 

Jack's face grew even grimmer and Daniel felt a rush of sympathy for his friend. Jack would never voice his feelings, but Daniel knew he blamed himself for what had happened to Sam, even though he'd followed established protocol.

 

"She received the all clear signal and directed myself and Daniel Jackson to precede her into the Stargate."

 

Daniel nodded. "I went through first, I heard Sam and Teal'c provide cover fire."

 

"Indeed. Colonel Carter was right behind me. She should be here."

 

"But she isn't."

 

"We are wasting time, O'Neill. We must return immediately to P2X-887 and attempt to locate her."

 

"Teal'c's right, Jack. The longer we wait—"

 

"Nobody's going anywhere. Ba'al clearly has control of that planet and if he wasn't pissed before, he's going to be more so after Camulus pays him a visit." Jack stood. "We'll send a MALP through after the President's visit tomorrow."

 

"Tomorrow!" Daniel jumped up. "Tomorrow will be too late for Sam, Jack. And you know it."

 

"Daniel Jackson is right, we must return at once."

 

"Not going to happen."

 

"Jack! This is Sam!"

 

Daniel didn't think he'd ever seen Jack's eyes that bleak. "I know, Daniel. I know." And with that, he went to his office. Or retreated, Daniel thought, something he'd never seen Jack do before. 

 

He turned to Teal'c, who looked just as stunned as he felt. "There has to be something we can do!"

 

"It appears O'Neill feels otherwise," Teal'c replied, his voice way too calm. 

 

"Well, he obviously believes Sam is either dead—killed on the planet or lost in transit, or a prisoner of Ba'al."

 

"That would be the most likely conclusion," Teal'c agreed. "And if that is the case, then she is indeed lost to us."

 

"I'm not buying it, Teal'c. You and I made it through the gate without a problem."

 

"It only takes one blast from a staff weapon, Daniel Jackson."

 

"I know, I know. But...it just doesn't seem right."

 

"What do you propose we do?"

 

Daniel glanced towards the office, Jack sat at his desk, head bent over a folder on his desk. God, he hadn't felt this frustrated since the time he'd spent as an ascended being and could only observe what happened to people and not intervene. He turned back to Teal'c. "I don't know, Teal'c. But there has to be something. I won't believe Sam's dead until I see her body."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_"Samantha," Martouf pleaded, his struggle to fight the Za'tarc programming obviously failing._

_The pain, despair and love she sensed was lacking...something. Even when her finger pulled the trigger on the zat and the tormented man breathed his last in her arms, the emotion wasn't enough. Not enough pain, or despair or love._

_Samantha ruthlessly probed into her victim's memories. Fifth wasn't the first man this woman had callously used and then betrayed. Besides the dead Tok'ra, there were others— human and alien; dead and alive. And while she could feel sadness and a small degree of regret in the other woman's memories, it wasn't what she wanted—or needed._

_Reaching into areas of Major Carter's brain that were hidden further in the woman's subconscious, Samantha searched for her twin's longings...fears...regrets. Dead mothers and fiancés held no interest for her, nor did friendships that had never ventured beyond the first tentative forays of mutual affection. There had been someone recently. She focused on him for a moment--hazel eyes and short blond hair, an easy going smile and an equally easy affection, but no deeper emotional bond beyond a true fondness for each other and physical desire._

_Frustrated, Samantha growled and dug in deeper, using both hands and curling them like talons into Carter's brain. The woman who lay collapsed at her feet suddenly jerked and let out a primal scream. Samantha probed further and then smiled in triumph._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Whatever the disruption, it hadn't lasted for long. She and Daniel had only been in the cell for an hour or two before they were brought to Hathor's throne room. The Goa'uld had stopped using the replica of the SGC, the room they were in now held all the ornate trappings they had come to expect from the Goa'uld. Trofsky stood to the right of her throne; Rawley was nowhere to be seen. Their guards pushed them roughly to their knees. Sam tried to give Daniel a reassuring smile, but she was too scared to make it convincing. While she desperately wanted to know what had happened to the Colonel, she was also terrified at what they might be told._

_"Chelka, kree!" Hathor commanded. Trofsky nodded to one of the Jaffa, who favored his queen with a brisk bow, before vanishing through a door on a side wall._

_He couldn't have been gone more than a few minutes, but the floor was hard and Sam grew more anxious with each passing moment. Daniel stared blankly in front of him, his eyes glazed and unfocused and Sam wondered bleakly where he had disappeared to. The door suddenly opened and the Jaffa reappeared, followed by another man wearing armor similar to that of Trofsky. Anguish filled Sam's heart when she recognized the man—it was the Colonel._

_"My Queen. I am honored to be in your service."_

_Sam shuddered and despair welled up inside her when his voice reverberated throughout the room and he knelt down on one knee in front of Hathor. She held out her hand and he kissed it, before rising._

_"We are most pleased to welcome you to our court." Hathor smiled, her gaze gliding past O'Neill to Sam. "You shall rule by my side and together we will conquer the universe." Sam flinched when Hathor's hand reached up to the Colonel's face, tracing her nails along his cheek in a travesty of a lover's caress. "But first, there is some unfinished business to take care of."_

_O'Neill turned and looked at her and Daniel. His eyes glowed and his smile was an evil parody of usual trademark grin. He bowed to Hathor and picked up her hand, giving it a lingering kiss. "As you desire, my Queen."_

_Sam jumped to her feet, but two Jaffa immediately grabbed her arms, holding her back. She struggled, but couldn't break free. "Daniel!" she cried desperately, but he just looked around dazedly from where he knelt and then Jack was standing in front of him._

_"No!" she screamed, struggling impotently against the Jaffa, the sound of her scream masking the crunch of Daniel's spine when Jack snapped his neck. Daniel fell to the floor like a discarded rag doll. Sam watched horrified as the Colonel casually stepped over Daniel's fallen body and approached her._

_"Sir," she pleaded, searching those familiar brown eyes, looking for some spark of recognition. "You've got to fight it."_

_"Sam," he murmured, the distorted sound of his voice sending chills down her spine. He nodded to the Jaffa holding her and they released her. She staggered a bit, but then froze when his hand gently gripped her jaw. His thumb dragged across her lower lip in a rough caress and she sobbed his name. He pulled her into his arms and she stood stiffly against him, shivering as he caressed her hair._

_"Colonel," she whispered, flinching when she felt his lips brush against her hair._

_"Shhh..." he murmured. She closed her eyes on a broken sob when his large hands encircled her throat, his touch almost gentle. His fingers tightened and her eyes flew open._

_"Sir, please..." She could feel her consciousness slipping even as she pleaded with him, the lack of oxygen already affecting her brain._

_"He never could have loved you," the Goa'uld whispered, using the Colonel's voice. Overwhelming despair and regret filled her; and then he flicked his wrists and her neck snapped._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Sam restlessly paced the confines of the Tel'tak, earning a raised eyebrow from Teal'c and a knowing smile from Daniel. "A little anxious, Sam?"_

_"Aren't you?" she countered. "It's been almost a year, he's going to be so surprised. I’m sure he thought we had given up on him."_

_"O'Neill will not have lost faith," Teal'c intoned gravely, his eyes never leaving the navigation screens in front of him._

_"I hope you're right, Teal'c," Sam replied, a worried frown crossing her face. So much could happen within a year.... The particle beam generator she had tried to build had been a complete failure. Well, maybe not a complete failure, the R &D group was busy working on it. But in the end, it had been her dad who had managed to persuade the Tok'ra to loan them a ship. But it had taken over eight long months of negotiations, not to mention the month of space travel necessary to reach Edora. _

_"Major Carter, please prepare yourself for entry into the planet's orbit."_

_"Time to fasten your seatbelt, Sam," Daniel teased, easing out of the second chair on the flight deck._

_She tried to glare at him, but only ended up smiling as she took the seat, preparing to help Teal'c. There wasn't much for her to do, she simply monitored their speed and rate of descent and then light as a feather, the Tel'tak settled gently onto the planet._

_Sam could barely contain her excitement; they were finally here and were going to bring the Colonel home. It was an answer to all her prayers. Her fingers fumbled with the fastenings of her vest and jacket, but finally they were ready. By the time they'd geared up and exited the Tel'tak, a small crowd had gathered. She searched the curious faces in the crowd, looking for the Colonel, disappointment filling her when she didn't see him._

_A low murmur started among the people gathered there and the crowd parted. A gray haired man strode purposefully through their midst and Sam was overcome with relief and joy at seeing him. She wanted to run up and hug him, the way Daniel did; she couldn't help but smile when the Colonel clapped Teal'c on the back and rubbed his bald head. He turned toward her then and she drank in the sight of him. Tan, fit, leaner than he had been and so handsome it made her heartache._

_"Carter, good to see you!" He smiled warmly._

_"Same here, sir." She grinned, hoping she didn't look too lovestruck._

_"Fair day, Major Carter."_

_Sam was still smiling when she looked at the woman who had come to stand next to the Colonel. Sam’s brain supplied the name ‘Laira’, but when she opened her mouth to speak, the greeting died on her lips. The Colonel's arm was round the native woman, whose face bore a triumphant smile, her hands resting protectively over her swollen belly. O'Neill didn't say anything; his pleased smile as he rested one of his hands over Laira's was witness enough._

_"I'm sure glad to see you guys, but if you've come to take me back to Earth, well, you're a little too late. Right, honey?" Laira merely smiled and leaned closer to O'Neill._

_"Sir, I don't understand."_

_"Oh, come on, Carter. You didn't really think I'd put my life on hold waiting to be rescued?"_

_"We never leave our people behind, you know that, sir."_

_He shrugged, kissing Laira's temple. "What can I say? The life I had back on Earth doesn't hold a candle to what I have here "_

_"I just thought..." her voice trailed off and she felt incredibly awkward and very uncomfortable. What had she thought?_

_"Carter, did you really think I'd wait for you?"_

_She wanted nothing more than to vanish into the ground when he laughed. Daniel and Teal'c shifted uneasily behind him._

_"I mean, you're easy on the eyes, but a man needs more than that. He needs a woman with substance and depth, not a soldier. Or a scientist," he added with an amused laughed. "Too bad you didn't realize I could never love you before you went to all the trouble of rescuing me."_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"No!" Sam tried to cry, but no sound came out. Panting, she forced her eyes open; she still lay curled up on the floor, drenched with sweat. There was the sound of movement, the rustle of cloth and she was dimly away of the other 'her' leaving the room. Closing her eyes briefly, Sam moaned softly as her aching and chilled muscles protested about lying on the hard floor. Struggling to a sitting position, she felt her stomach roll and she retched, dry heaves wracking her body. She felt terrible and she was so thirsty. The thought of food only made her want to retch again, but she knew she needed water, and soon. Unless, of course, the creature meant to kill her by starving her instead of just slowly frying her brain until nothing of her was left.

 

Forcing herself to focus on her surroundings, Sam realized she was in a different room than previously, and it had been altered to resemble one of detention cells at the SGC. There wasn't a cot, just a pallet on the floor and what looked like a blanket. Sam slowly got to her feet and staggered over to the pallet, but a recessed door handle caught her eye. Trying it, she discovered a spartan latrine. But there was a sink and a faucet, and when she turned on the tap, sparkling clear water rushed out.

 

Almost sobbing with relief, Sam leaned shakily against the sink and cupped her hands, greedily drinking. More water seemed to splash down her shirt than got into her mouth, and she forced herself to stop before she wanted to, afraid to overload her stomach. There was a not surprising lack of towels, so she wiped her hands and mouth on her already damp T-shirt.

 

Peering cautiously back into the room, she was relieved to find it still empty and she crept over to the pallet. She left her boots on, but took off her bulky jacket and lay down, curling up on her side with her back against the wall. The pallet was only marginally softer than the floor, but at least she was protected somewhat from the chill of the cold tiles beneath her. Wadding her jacket up as a pillow, she pulled the thin blanket over herself. She was exhausted, but she was afraid to sleep, afraid of the dreams or torture, she wasn't even sure anymore. Instead, her thoughts raced as she tried to make some sense of what was happening to her—which seemed too unbelievable to be true, even considering her past experiences with the Replicators. 

 

A human Replicator had been made in her image and so far, seemed intent on punishing her. For what, she wasn't sure. Her gut told her it was for something more fundamental than the revenge Fifth had wanted. It was jealous of her and whatever relationship it imagined she had with Fifth. And perhaps it even felt the same fear and confusion she felt at knowing there was another her. Right, this had happened before, but the robots on Harlan's planet hadn't bothered her so much, because that android had basically been her. This creature was like her evil twin, with abilities beyond even the Asgard. She shivered; a very powerful being motivated by jealousy—against her.

 

The intent of the torture seemed different, too. Sam wasn't stupid and she didn't need to be hit over the head with a brick to see the pattern in the scenarios the creature had created in her mind. Rejection by the man she loved—and not just by any man she had loved in the past. Rejection by the only man who could truly hurt her. If this was supposed to build some kind of empathy in her for that thing masquerading as her, it was sadly mistaken. Any sympathy and tenderness she had felt for Fifth, or any of the Replicators, had disappeared when he lost his humanity by torturing her. This creature apparently had none of his limited humanity and Sam wondered sadly if he had really tried to create it in her image or if this was as close as his nanite neurons could come.

 

Her eyes drifted shut, she could feel her tired muscles starting to relax and in spite of her fear, she knew she needed to sleep. She'd need all her strength to plan her escape and face whatever this monster created for her next. Her last thought as she succumbed to sleep was that her one advantage lay in that she knew her enemy—intimately. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_"This is Digger Two, we are in the solar system and preparing for retrieval. We estimate our time to station keep with Digger One is four minutes."_

_Minutes later, the hybrid death glider appeared off the port side of their view screen. "Stand by. We're trying to make contact with Digger One, sir, without success."_

_Sam switched the radio to the Digger One's frequency. "Digger One, this is Carter. Do you read?"_

_"Are we too late?" Jacob asked, his eyes also focused on the small vessel._

_"I think they're unconscious." They had to be unconscious, she thought desperately watching the other ship for any signs of life. They couldn't be dead, not after all this._

_"Well, we have to wake them up somehow," Daniel commented._

_"Dammit, Colonel! We haven't come all this way to take you home in a box, now wake up!"_

_"Let me give them a nudge." Jacob's hands gently guided the controls until the Tel'tak just tapped the hybrid glider. O'Neill's head lolled to the side, the only response from the too-quiet vessel. "I think we're too late, Sam."_

_"No!" Sam shouted, but not at her father, who looked shocked at her outburst. "This won't work! I won't play your game any longer!"_

_"Sam! What the hell is wrong with you?"_

_"Stop it!" She whirled on her father and Daniel. "You are not my father." She pointed at Daniel. "You are not Daniel Jackson. This is not real." She pointed out the window of the Tel'tak. "They aren't really there!"_

_"Sam," her father's voice was soothing. He stood and took a step towards her, holding out his hand. "You've been under a lot of stress, let me help you."_

_"No!" Sam took a step back from her father, shouting at the room. "Stop it! I said stop it!"_

_The Tel'tak dissolved, along with Digger One, and Sam faced her twin across a chasm of swirling space. Vivid hues of indigo, violet and red surged around them, lightning arcing over their heads._

_"You are not the one in control here, Samantha Carter," the Replicator spat at her._

_"I am in control of my thoughts and memories, and I won't let you manipulate them or me any longer. None of what you've created in my brain is real and it has no power to hurt me." Her breathing was ragged, her heart racing. The electricity in the air was dangerously close, but she continued. "So, you might as well kill me now, because I won't play your sick game."_

_"I don't need your memories anymore, you have already given me more than enough to accomplish my task." The Replicator laughed, the sound sending a chill down Sam's spine. "I won't kill you...yet. But you may well wish you were dead before I finally extinguish your pitiful life."_

_Light and sound exploded around Sam and she screamed, collapsing from the intense pain. The Replicator's depraved laugh ricocheted in her brain until she fell into blessed unconsciousness._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Daniel skidded into the gateroom, adjusting his pack with one hand and dropping his boonie hat with the other.

 

"Glad you could join us, Daniel." General O'Neill leaned down and picked up his hat. 

 

Daniel took the wayward hat and glanced curiously around the gateroom. He could hear Sergeant Harriman's voice counting down the chevrons as they locked, but the room was surprisingly empty. Only himself, Teal'c, O'Neill and the normal complement of guards were present. "Ah, I thought we were going on an official inspection tour of the Alpha site?"

 

"We are."

 

"Well," Daniel came to stand next to O'Neill, at the foot of the ramp, "I guess I expected something a bit...grander."

 

Teal'c raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. 

 

"Sorry to disappoint you," Jack responded dryly.

 

"No, it's okay." He jammed the hat down on his head and turned his attention to the spinning gate.

 

"Chevron seven locked." Harriman's voice sounded over the PA and the gate whooshed into life. 

 

Teal'c started up the ramp, Daniel fell into step next to O'Neill. "So, any word from the Tok'ra?" He didn't add more, he didn't need to, Jack knew what he was talking about. It had been over a week since Sam had disappeared. The System Lords denied any knowledge of her whereabouts, which was to be expected. The Tok'ra were proving to be more elusive than usual, however. Daniel knew Jack had even gone so far as to send SG-17 to K'tau to contact the Asgard, all to no avail.

 

"Not a word," Jack replied evenly and stepped through the event horizon.

 

Daniel followed, emerging right behind O'Neill, deep in the depths of the Alpha Site. He wasn't giving up on this particular conversation just yet. "So, what do we do next?"

 

Daniel heard the gate shut down behind him. Teal'c stood a few yards away, already deep in conversation with Colonel Pierce. The armed SFs had lowered their weapons. Daniel had almost decided that Jack was ignoring him, until he stopped and looked back.

 

"We—" Jack never finished his statement, a brilliant flash of white light enveloped him and he disappeared.

 

"What?" Daniel sputtered.

 

"O'Neill!" Teal'c yelled, he and the SFs racing to the spot where O'Neill had disappeared. Colonel Pierce was shouting orders, running toward the control room. 

 

Daniel followed, Teal'c right behind him. The room was buzzing with excited voices and activity.

 

"Report," Pierce snapped.

 

A wide-eyed lieutenant looked up from his console. "Sensors detected a ship in orbit right before the General disappeared, sir. And then it was gone."

 

"Go on," Pierce commanded.

 

"I have seen that energy signature before," Teal'c interrupted, his gaze riveted on the console.

 

"It wasn't the Asgard?" Daniel asked.

 

Both Pierce and Daniel looked from the lieutenant to Teal'c and back again. "Well?" demanded Pierce.

 

"The energy signature is consistent—" 

 

"Get to the bottom line, Evans," Pierce interrupted.

 

"It was the Replicators, sir."

 

"But, I thought they had been destroyed with the Ancient's weapon?" Unease swept through Daniel, he hated those bugs. 

 

"Evidently not, Daniel Jackson."

 

"Do we know where the ship went?" Pierce asked sharply.

 

"No, sir. We tried tracking it, but it's apparently it's shielded. It must have had to drop its shields to transport the General, and that's when we were able to detect it."

 

"So, what do we do now?" Pierce asked, eerily echoing Daniel's earlier question of O'Neill.

 

"We go back to K'tau and try to contact the Asgard, again."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Daniel was thankful it hadn't taken much to convince Pierce to let him and Teal'c gate immediately to K'tau, while Pierce contacted the SGC. The wheels of bureaucracy would move a bit faster, given it was General O'Neill who had been abducted, but every minute still counted. So, he and Teal'c were on K'tau. It was early evening, there was a slight chill in the air and most of the residents were indoors, if the smoke emanating from their chimneys was any indication. Bypassing the center of town, they headed straight toward the Hall of Wisdom.

 

Daniel couldn't stop thinking about Jack—or Sam. "Teal'c, you don't suppose Sam was abducted by the Replicators, as well?"

 

"It would appear to be unlikely, Daniel Jackson."

 

"I know." They were at the Hall; Daniel pushed the door open. "It just seems odd, Sam vanishing just a week ago and now Jack."

 

"She may very well be dead."

 

"I know, I know!" he replied, annoyance coloring his voice. "Just go with me here, okay?"

 

Teal'c nodded and Daniel walked to the monument. "It just seems too much of a coincidence, that's all I'm saying." He pressed the center stone and they were immediately transported to the holographic chamber. "First Sam and now Jack. And it’s only been a month since our last run in with the Replicators.”

 

Daniel looked around the empty Asgard council chamber. Maybe they were sleeping? Did Asgard sleep?

 

"Neither Colonel Carter or O'Neill possess technology that a Replicator could use."

 

"I agree, that part doesn’t make sense. But from what little Sam told us, that Replicator Fifth didn't want her for her technology." Okay, he was getting tired of waiting. "Hellooo!" Teal'c frowned, Daniel shrugged. But there was a brief shimmer of light and an Asgard suddenly appeared in the council chamber.

 

"I am Aegir." His eyes blinked. "Greetings, Teal'c. How may we assist you and your companion?"

 

Daniel raised his eyebrows at Teal'c, who replied evenly. "Aegir and I met during the last Replicator incident."

 

"Ah."

 

"This is Daniel Jackson. We have come to request the assistance of the Asgard. General O'Neill has been abducted by Replicators."

 

"That is indeed distressing news." Aegir inclined its head slightly. "While we have been systematically destroying those Replicator colonies we are aware of, we have yet to find the Replicator ship that escaped at Orilla."

 

"So, you think it was the human Replicators?"

 

"If the energy signature was that of a Replicator vessel, then yes." Aegir looked almost perplexed then. "The Replicator 'bugs', as you call them, would have no need of a human. It is advanced technology, specifically neutronium, that they desire."

 

"So why take Jack?"

 

The little alien cocked its head to the side in an eerily familiar human gesture. "The human Replicators do not act in the same ways as the originals, they are less...predictable. More...human."

 

"So...if these Replicators are thinking like humans..." Daniel said slowly.

 

"Then they could be seeking revenge on O'Neill for creating the weapon that destroyed their brethren," Teal'c finished for him.

 

"And continues to destroy them."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"—wait." _Here we go again_ , Jack thought, as he spun, only half-heartedly bringing his weapon up, sure he was going to hear Thor's voice any minute. On closer inspection though, he belatedly realized he wasn't on an Asgard vessel. In fact, he wasn't sure what kind of ship he was on and he had a sinking suspicion he wasn't going to like whatever he found. Readying his weapon, and with serious intent, Jack began a sweep of the vessel. 

 

Creeping cautiously through the open hatch, he found another room identical to the one he'd left. Pausing, he cocked his head and listened, the low thrum of the engines almost soundless. But he thought he heard something else. Moving almost soundlessly himself, Jack glided toward one of two open hatches in the small room. His weapon leading, Jack peered around the door. 

 

"God! Carter!" Stunned, he lowered his weapon and quickly crossed the small room. She lay huddled on the floor, curled up into a little ball. Kneeling on the floor, he touched her shoulder. She flinched and whimpered, pulling away from his touch. "Carter, it's me." He gripped her shoulder more firmly, rolling her to her back. "It's me, Jack."

 

Her lids fluttered open, shattered and fearful blue eyes looking blankly at him until awareness filtered in and recognition filled them. "Sir," she whispered. "Oh, sir, it is you."

Her thin arms wound around his neck and she was sobbing in his arms. 

 

Setting his weapon down, Jack held her, patting her back and making the soothing noises crying women and children seemed to need. When her sobs lessened to sporadic sniffles, he slowly loosened his hold on her and she eased out of his arms. She looked frighteningly fragile and delicate, not his capable, strong Colonel. What had happened to her?

 

"Sam." He paused, not sure why had had used her given name, her fleeting smile surprising him. "Where are we?"

 

"It's Fifth," she whispered, fear once more filling her eyes. "He's..." her voice trailed off and Jack felt his gut tighten. "I've been so scared," she murmured, her arms once more snaking around his neck.

 

"It's okay," he reassured her. "You're not alone now, we'll find a way out of here."

 

She pulled back, her hands framing his face. "No, I'm not alone." He shivered—from arousal or trepidation, he wasn't sure—when the fingers of her right hand ruffled through his short hair. "But you are." 

 

Her eyes hardened, her nails suddenly digging into his scalp. Jack heard the telltale clattering of Replicator movement and grabbed her wrist as realization set in, but he was too late and she was too strong. Helpless to prevent his violation, he choked back a guttural cry when her fingers penetrated his skull.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_"Dad, come on, wake up!"_

_There was the sound of the curtains being drawn and then bright sunlight poured into the room. Jack groaned, rolling over and burying his head in the pillow._

_"Dad," the voice wheedled. "The fish aren't going to wait forever!"_

_"Jack! Charlie! Breakfast's ready!"_

_The voice drifting into the room was as familiar as it was unexpected._

_"Come on, Dad." The pillow over his head was suddenly gone and Jack opened his eyes, meeting the cheerful blue eyes of his...son?_

_"Sam made breakfast and everything." Charlie leaned down closer and grinned. "And it wasn't just opening a box of cereal and getting out the milk—she cooked! And you know how much she hates that."_

_"Charlie?" he croaked, delight and confusion mixing in an uneasy combination in his gut._

_Charlie gave a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes. "Who else would get up at the crack of dawn to go fishing with you?"_

_"I know, son," Jack managed to choke out, standing up. "I'm just glad to see you." He pulled the young man, who was almost as tall as he was, into his arms, hugging him tightly._

_"Hey, easy there, Dad." Charlie laughed, stepping back. "You didn't get enough hugging last night at the airport?"_

_"Airport?"_

_"When you and Sam picked me up in Minneapolis." He cocked his head and smiled again, his eyes twinkling. "Just how many beers did you have last night after I went to bed?"_

_Jack was starting to wonder the same thing, when Sam's voice sounded in the hall again._

_"I said, breakfast is ready!"_

_"Come on, Dad, we better go. You know how she gets."_

_Jack didn't really know 'how she got', but then he wasn't sure of much of anything right now._

_"Coming, Sam!" Charlie called cheerfully, heading out the door. "You know how hard it is to wake Dad up."_

_His voice faded away and Jack looked dazedly around the very familiar room—the master bedroom in his cabin at the lake. He walked over to the window, running his fingers across the sill, the wood beneath his fingers warm from the sun. It looked to be mid-summer, the trees and grass a lush green, the sky blue water of the lake sparkling just beyond the small jetty. It was all so familiar, so why did he feel so off-balance?_

_"Jack?"_

_He spun, the sound of her voice somehow surprising him, even though Charlie had told him she was here. And she was...here, at his cabin. Her hair was longer, curling loosely around her shoulders and her blue eyes were full of concern._

_"Breakfast is going to get cold. And Charlie's waiting."_

_"Yeah, about that." He closed his eyes, because as much as this was something out of a dream, it had to be a dream._

_Her hand was soft against his cheek, her fingers lightly caressing. "Come and have breakfast. And then go out and catch some fish with your son. We can talk about whatever's bothering you when you get back."_

_He had trusted her with his life more times than he could remember, so he trusted her now. "Just let me put some clothes on," he told her._

_She smiled and kissed him briefly. "It's just pancakes, I wasn't going to make yours until you were actually in the kitchen anyway."_

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_"Come on, son, the fish stopped biting over an hour ago." Jack tilted his head back and checked the position of the sun. "It's getting too hot, they're all out hiding in the deeper water now."_

_Charlie looked over his shoulder at him, still reeling in his line. "I know that old bass is out here somewhere...."_

_"Cut your old man some slack, Charlie. I need more coffee—or a nap."_

_"All right, I guess I do have the whole next month to catch that bass."_

_"That's right," Jack said. 'Now, finish reeling in that line and we'll head back to shore."_

_It wasn't a long trip—the lake wasn't that big and they hadn't gone out too far. And they had caught their limit; there'd be fish a frying tonight. Or grilling, probably the healthier alternative and he figured Sam would prefer healthier._

_Guiding the small boat up to the dock, Charlie jumped out and had the boat tied up by the time he'd gotten their gear together. Sam was standing at the back door of the cabin, shading her eyes against the bright sun._

_"Caught our limit!" Charlie shouted. Jack handed him the stringer and he held it up to Sam._

_She walked down to the dock, a beautiful smile lighting her face. "You know the rule. You catch 'em, you clean 'em!"_

_"Yes, ma'am." Charlie grinned and waved a salute at her before heading toward the work area off the back porch, to start cleaning their catch._

_"So." Jack set their fishing gear down on the grass and took his sunglasses off, letting them hang around his neck. He didn't know the how and he was afraid of the why, but in his gut, he knew none of this was real. His last real memory had been of something that he had hoped never to see—or experience—again._

_"So," she answered, her eyes full of mystery and love._

_"Why all of this?" He made a wide, sweeping gesture with his arm._

_"Because it's what you want. You can stay here, forever. With me, with Charlie. You won't have to be responsible anymore about who lives and who dies."_

_"And you think that's what I want?"_

_She took the few steps it required, closing the distance between them. She was so close he could smell her perfume, gardenias and roses, he'd overheard her tell Daniel once. She was beautiful, her hair gleaming in the bright sun, her eyes as blue as the water, her lips pink and glistening. "Isn't it?" she murmured, resting her hands at his waist._

_"This isn't real."_

_"It can be as real as you want, Jack." His breath caught when she leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. Wrapping his arms around her, he leaned into the kiss, deepening it. She tasted sweet and familiar and yeah, he could spend the rest of his life just kissing her._

_"Get a room!" Charlie shouted in the distance._

_Jack pulled back, smiling ruefully at Sam. She grinned back at him. He could hear his son whistling off-key, happily gutting fish. The sun was warm and the air alive with the sounds of birds, the water lapping gently against the dock. God, he wanted her and he wanted this, his perfect world. But it wasn't real, no matter how hard he wanted it to be. And that wasn't Charlie and this wasn't Sam._

_"It's not real enough," he told her. He gave her a half smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and started walking away from the shore._

_"Dad?" Charlie asked, looking up from his half-cleaned fish._

_"It's okay, son. I'm just going to take a little walk."_

_"Okay," he smiled and went back to his scaling._

_Jack ignored the shaft of pain that shot through his heart and turned his back on his son and kept walking._

_"Jack?"_

_He ignored her and kept walking, but it was getting harder, his head had started pounding and his vision was getting blurry._

_"Jack! I won't let you leave me!"_

_He was staggering now; barely able to keep his balance, but he kept going. The pain in his head was blinding and he stumbled, falling to his knees. Even as he collapsed on to the ground, he somehow still heard her footsteps in the grass, above the roaring in his ears. And then she was kneeling by his side, her fingers rough when she grabbed his hair, pulling his head back._

_Jack struggled to open his eyes and then wished he hadn't, because the woman looking down at him wasn't Sam anymore, but some wild-eyed creature he didn't recognize. Her lips twisted in a parody of Sam's beautiful smile. "You're mine now, just like she is, and you'll never escape."_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam sat on the pallet, back against the wall and facing the door, the remains of the meager meal she'd been provided with earlier sitting on the floor next to her. Something was up. She hadn't seen her captor for over twenty-four hours and the other Replicators had been exceptionally quiet, as well. She thought they had stopped...somewhere. She was positive they had momentarily exited hyperspace, only to resume seconds later. 

 

Needing to stretch her legs, Sam stood and started pacing the small area. The one time she'd tried to leave her small cell, at least two dozen Replicators had appeared, which had stopped her. They hadn't made any threatening moves, but it was clear she wasn't to go exploring. While she paced, she wondered why she hadn't seen any more human Replicators, unless the weapon had destroyed all of them except Fifth.

 

She had just finished her at least her fiftieth circuit when there was a sudden flurry of activity outside, Replicators hurrying everywhere and she head the distant shout of a woman yelling—in frustration or anger, she couldn't tell. Walking to the door, she peered cautiously out, seeing nothing except the long stretch of empty corridor. She gasped then, stepping back when the wall several yards from her melted away and 'she' appeared, carrying some thing slung over her shoulder. It turned toward her, her face a study in fury, and Sam realized she was carrying a person. She backed away quickly and went to stand by the pallet. The Replicator strode wordlessly into her cell and dumped her burden on the pallet.

 

The creature didn't stay and as soon as she had disappeared through the door, Sam dropped to her knees. It was the General. He was so pale and still. With trembling fingers, she felt for the pulse in his neck, relieved to find it beating strongly against her fingers. What was he doing here? And hard on the heels of that thought, she wondered wildly if it was really him or a 'replicated' him, designed to torture her further? But then logic superceded her panic. She could feel the blood coursing through his veins, she placed her hand on his chest, and she could feel his heart beating, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

 

He stirred, groaning and she quickly moved her hand to his shoulder, squeezing gently. "General...sir, are you okay?"

 

He seemed to freeze for a moment when she spoke. "Not going to work," he muttered, raising a hand and rubbing at his eyes.

 

"Sir," she tried again, stroking his cheek. "Open your eyes."

 

His hand shot up and closed like a vise around her wrist, and she cried out, his grip hurting her. He opened his eyes and they were filled with such hatred and contempt, that she instinctively tried to pull away. 

 

"Don't touch me," he snarled, flinging her arm away with such force that she was caught off balance and tumbled back away from him.

 

"I...General, sir," she protested in confusion, scrambling back onto her knees. And then it dawned on her. "What did she do to you?" she demanded, afraid and furious.

 

He struggled into a sitting position, his fury and distrust vivid as he glared at her. "As if you didn't know!"

 

"It's me, sir. Carter."

 

"Like hell you are. What have you done with her?"

 

Evidently his encounter with her twin hadn't been any better than any of her's had been. What could she do to convince him she was human? Before she could lose her courage, she grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand to her chest. His shock at her actions worked in her favor and she was able to force his hand down over her left breast.

 

He tried to pull away, but she used both hands then, holding his hand there. "Can you feel my heart beating?" she asked, her voice fierce, all the while trying to ignore the feel of his hand on her breast. "Can you feel me breathing?"

 

His eyes lost some of their caution, his hand curving warmly around her breast. As if suddenly realizing what he was doing, he snatched his hand away and she let him go. "Doesn't mean anything," he told her. "Machines have moving parts."

 

Sam looked at him in despair; his eyes were once more hard and unyielding. She'd recognize that look anywhere. He wouldn't believe her. She had a radical idea, one that would have to convince him. Reaching around him, she grabbed the pottery bowl that had held the soup she'd been given. She rapped it hard against the floor and it broke into several pieces. The largest one was still in her hand and she took it, holding her left hand out to him and slicing across the fleshy area of her palm with the rough edge of the shard. She winced, and dug in deeper with it, until blood welled up out of the jagged cut.

 

"There!" she said shakily, holding her bleeding hand out to him, the bright red blood dripping down her arm. "Is that proof enough for you?"

 

"God, Carter..." he muttered. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to her hand, his touch tender now. The anger on his face had faded into a wary bewilderment. "It's really you?"

 

"It's me, sir." She sat down next to him, relief and exhaustion pouring through her. She gently pulled her hand from his and he let it go, along with the handkerchief. 

 

"Shit," he groaned, leaning against the wall and letting his head fall back. "It feels like she took a sledge hammer to my brain."

 

Sam grimaced, holding pressure to the wound. "I know the feeling, sir."

 

"So, who or what is she?"

 

"A Replicator, sir."

 

"That looks like you."

 

She found she couldn't look at him, so she stared down at her wounded hand instead. "Yeah," she said softly, "that looks like me." 

 

"So, I take it you were transported aboard this...ship?"

 

She nodded.

 

"During the firefight with Ba'al's troops on P2X-887?"

 

"Seconds before I was going to enter the gate."

 

"Right." 

 

Sam looked up at him then. He looked uncomfortable. "About that, Carter."

 

"You don't need to explain, sir."

 

"If I hadn't delayed in opening the iris, you wouldn't have been captured."

 

"You don't know that."

 

He raised his eyebrows. 

 

She let his unspoken comment pass. "What I don't understand though, is why are you here?"

 

"Oh," he drawled, "for the amusement of our captor?" He looked toward the door then. "Isn't that right?"

 

Sam's eyes flew to the doorway. Her twin stood there, a mocking smile on her face now, the fury she'd seen earlier gone.

 

"You are here because I choose it." She strode casually into the room and stood over them. Sam thought all she needed was a few whips and chains to make the dominatrix picture complete. She reached down and grabbed her jaw. "Because I want you to suffer as I have suffered."

 

"Hey, easy there," Jack said, reaching out toward the creature. Sam gasped and watched helplessly as it batted him away as easily as if he were a fly. He hit the floor with a thud and a groan.

 

"What do you want?" Sam hissed, her eyes blazing with fury at the other woman. It was one thing for her to take out her feelings on her, but she had crossed the line when she attacked the General...Jack.

 

"You know what I want." Its hand was suddenly gentle, caressing her cheek, and Sam couldn't help but cringe. The creature's fingers glided up her jaw, Sam could feel her fingernails grazing along her scalp. The nails suddenly dug in and Sam tried to brace herself even as she felt her fingers slipping through her skull. 

 

"I want you both," it whispered.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_Sam was disoriented, she didn't know where she was. The room was vaguely familiar, in the way a dream is familiar when you first wake up in the morning. She looked around, trying to discern her location, like any good team leader. The furnishings were sparse, yet opulent. Tapestries on the wall, a raised dais with an ornate bench, beside it a small table._

_She was kneeling on a velvet-covered pillow, wearing a tight-fitting black corsolette with a sheer skirt that flowed around her. Her hand skimmed along her décolletage up to her throat, where her fingers encountered a heavy leather collar. She shifted and felt the tug, along with the clanking of metal...she was chained to the wall._

_There was the sudden flurry of movement and she wasn't alone..._

_"Who are you?"_

_She didn't recognize the face or the voice, but she recognized the arrogant tone—a Goa'uld._

_"You go first."_

_That voice she knew intimately. She had heard it countless times in her waking and dreaming hours. Her eyes flew to him. He was...suspended, on an ornate metal grating that covered an entire wall, with no obvious means of support. The scientist in her knew it had to be the effect of some kind of gravity generator, the woman who loved him screamed in agony. She shifted, the chain rattling, but no one in the room paid her any mind._

_The Goa'uld picked up a large knife, then gracefully sat on the bench, his coat flowing elegantly around him. She studied him intently, finally deciding he must be Ba'al, given what she could remember of Daniel's long-ago description of him. His manner and his voice were refined—and cold-blooded._

_"You claim you do not know me?"_

_"Well...take no offense there, Skippy, I'm sure you're a real hot, important Goa'uld, I've just always been kind of out of the loop with the snake thing."_

_Oh sir, she thought, her eyes flying to him. Don't make it any worse than it already obviously is!_

_"I am Ba'al."_

_So, she was right. He was Ba'al. Then this must be--_

_"That's it? Just 'Ball'...as in Bocce?"_

_The conversation between the two men swirled around her in a haze. The words were meaningless, the only thing that was real were the knives—and the suffering and confusion she could feel emanating from Jack. But underlying it all, was the guilt. He was here because of her...his flesh pierced with cold steel because of her. Pain and sorrow filled her, but she forced it away, concentrating on the conversation between the two men._

_"All right...look...this is the last thing I remember, I swear to God. I was sick. I agreed to let the Tok'ra put a snake in my head or I would have died. Right now, I'm kinda wishing I had."_

_His words pierced her heart just like the knives pierced his body. He had taken a symbiote for her and he wished he was dead. She felt a little bit of her die._

_"A wish easily granted."_

_She couldn't see Ba'al's face, but she heard the satisfaction in his voice._

_"What was your mission here?"_

_Sam felt sick when he picked up another knife._

_"No mission."_

_She could hear the strain in Jack's voice, the effort it took for him to answer._

_"Why have you returned?"_

_"I've never been here."_

_He's telling the truth, she thought desperately. He hasn't been here, of that she was positive. But if Kanan had been here.... She opened her mouth, straining against her bonds, but intense pain filled her and she gasped, sinking down onto the cushions._

_"What did you want with the female?"_

_"What female?"_

_Her heart ached at the confusion and fear she heard in his voice._

_"Death will only offer a temporary escape."_

_She closed her eyes, anguish washing through her. This couldn't be happening...this couldn't be happening—again._

_"I can revive you again and again...a thousand times if need be. Only once you have told me everything I ask, will you be allowed to die." Ba'al raised his arm gracefully, the lace cuff hanging over his wrist incongruous against the cold steel of the knife in his hand. "One...last...time."_

_Sam sobbed, burying her face in the pillow. She couldn't watch as the knife left Ba'al's hand and killed the Colonel. It didn't matter that she knew Ba'al would revive him in the sarcophagus. It didn't even matter that part of her knew this wasn't real, merely a very vivid recreation of events that creature had gleaned from his memories. It didn’t matter because it was everything that she had feared and had only now been confirmed._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_She was exhausted, close to the breaking point. Grief and pain had narrowed her world down to nothing except this moment. It was getting harder to concentrate and she couldn't tell if she was still trapped in that creature's sick fantasy world or if this was reality. Maybe she really was at Ba'al's fortress watching as he tortured the Colonel. Teal'c's question from so long ago echoed in her mind: Which reality is actually real? She didn't know anymore._

_"He did use both of us. How long were you host to this Kanan before he convinced you to come her? Days...or merely hours?"_

_"I don't remember."_

_"What did this Kanan share about his previous mission here?"_

_"Nothing."_

_"Perhaps this will help."_

_Sam waited breathlessly for what Ba'al was going to say next when she sensed movement and was suddenly jerked upright by her chain. With a movement of his hands, her collar was unlocked, falling to her feet. A hard hand on her upper arm propelled her over to the dais. He stood behind her, one arm loosely wrapped around her waist. With the other, he picked up one of the elaborate knives, trailing the cool tip of the blade along the pale skin of her throat._

_"What do you want with Samantha Carter?"_

_She looked helplessly across the expanse of the room at the Colonel. He looked terrible; pain and suffering etched into his face._

_"She has nothing to do with this, you bastard. This is between us."_

_”She has everything to do with this. Tell me, what is between you and this woman?"_

_Sam gasped when the edge of the knife scored the delicate skin below her collarbone, leaving a thin trail of blood in its path. She could see him struggling against the effects of the gravity well, trying futilely to break free. Ba'al raised his hand, letting the knife go. Sam watched in sick fascination as the blood-tinged knife flew smoothly across the room and into Jack's chest._

_"Sir..." she whispered, as he cried out in pain._

_"You think she loves you, but she does not. She is not capable of loving. She has shown this time and time again. She will only use you and then leave you, broken and bleeding."_

_Jack's eyes were bleak with defeat. "It doesn't matter. I still love her."_

_Sam closed her eyes in fear and shame when Ba'al boldly cupped her breast with the hand he had wrapped around her. "Will you still love her after I have finished with her?" he asked, his voice silky. He spun her in his embrace, holding her securely with one arm, another deadly knife already in his other hand. He released the knife, the roaring in her ears when his mouth descended ruthlessly to hers drowning out the sound of it impacting Jack's flesh._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Something wasn't right; Samantha could feel one of them fighting her control. Manipulating both of their minds was harder than she'd anticipated. The extra energy she had expended to capture the human male had compromised the vessel and she'd been forced to use some of their precious neutronium reserves. Which meant her energy reserves were low as well. She concentrated...it was the male. She'd let him have this victory; there would be plenty of time for her to break him completely to her will. Withdrawing her hand from his brain; she focused all her power on the female. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_She lay huddled on the pillow, shivering in reaction and shock. The room was quiet except for the labored breathing of the man still pinned to the grating. Her eyes were dry, her throat raw from holding back her tears. But she refused to cry for herself. She would survive, she just wished he hadn't been a witness to her humiliation._

_"Carter...Sam...." He coughed and then groaned in pain, his breathing harsh. Blood bubbled and dripped out of the corner of his mouth._

_She rose unsteadily to her feet, gathering her torn skirt around her and took a few tentative steps toward him. The collar was a rough reminder of her position; the chain pulling tight when she was less than a yard from him._

_"Sir." She stretched out her arm toward him, but she couldn't reach him. Drawing it back in, she wrapped her arms around herself, chilled to her very soul. He was dying, his color was ashen, blood dripping steadily down his chest and onto the floor._

_His eyes opened, dark pools of pain in his gray face. "You'll never be free."_

_But it wasn't his voice and she watched in horrified fascination as his features melted away and Pete was suspended on the spider-web grate in front of her._

_"I really loved you, Sam. We could—"_

_Sam sank to the cold stone floor of the chamber, biting her fist and fighting back the tears. Pete was transformed into Fifth._

_"—have had a life together. If only you would have loved me."_

_"Please, stop this," she sobbed._

_Ba'al stepped out of the shadows. "It will never stop," he murmured, reaching out and caressing her bruised cheek. She flinched and turned away, his amused laugh echoing in the chamber as he walked to the dais. He picked up a knife and turned toward his prisoner._

_Jack hung suspended on the web once more, pain filled eyes pleading with her. "For god's sake, Sam, make it stop. Let me die!"_

_She felt the air move as the knife flew by her, Ba'al's aim true. Jack groaned, his body jerked and then he was quiet. Sam sobbed out his name, collapsing onto the floor, anguish and despair overwhelming her._

_A cool hand touched her shoulder, stroked her hair. She looked up through tear-filled eyes into her own sympathy filled face. "There, there," the creature soothed. "Don't cry all your tears at once! There's plenty more yet to come."_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Doctor Jackson, Teal'c, good to see you."

 

Daniel stood as Hammond entered the briefing room, as did Teal'c. He shook the General's outstretched hand. "Same here, General. I just wish it was under different circumstances."

 

"As do I, son."

 

The General sat at the head of the table, reminding Daniel of countless other briefings. Except that Sam, and now Jack, were missing.

 

"So, what do we know?"

 

Teal'c spoke first. "General O'Neill was abducted from the Alpha site earlier today by what appeared to be a Replicator ship."

 

"Is the Alpha Site under any threat from the Replicators?"

 

"It would not appear to be so. The ship appeared for only a moment and left immediately after obtaining O'Neill."

 

"Do we know why they took him?"

 

Daniel pushed his glasses up his nose. "Ah, according to the Asgard, the only human form Replicators left were the ones that escaped destruction on Orilla."

 

"Go on."

 

"It's possible, given what we know of Sam's encounter with those Replicators, that they're seeking revenge on Jack."

 

"That just doesn't make any sense." Hammond looked about as confused as Daniel currently felt about the whole situation. They just didn't know enough about the human form Replicators to confidently predict their actions.

 

"I know it seems farfetched, but there doesn’t seem to be any more likely reason."

 

"What about the Asgard, will they help us?"

 

Teal'c answered. "Since it seems to be in their best interests as well, they are most eager to find the human Replicators that escaped from Orilla. To that end, they have dispatched a ship carrying the Ancient's weapon."

 

"Will they be able to find the Replicator ship?"

 

"Aegir appeared confident that they would be able to trace the energy signature of the ship."

 

"Very well." Hammond stood then. "I have been temporarily reassigned to the SGC, until General O'Neill's status has been determined. Dismissed."

 

"Ah, General?" Daniel asked. "What about Sam?"

 

"As I understand it, we're still waiting to hear from the Tok'ra. However, the more likely scenario is that she was killed on the planet."

 

"Right." Daniel didn't try to hide his annoyance. "I just thought maybe there was more that we could do."

 

"Doctor Jackson, we're doing all we can. But right now, our priority is General O'Neill."

 

Hammond left the briefing room with those words and Daniel watched him through the window for a moment, as he moved about his old office. 

 

"You are still troubled, Daniel Jackson."

 

Daniel turned his attention back to Teal'c. "I can't help but think there is a connection between their disappearances."

 

"If you are correct, then when the Asgard find the Replicator ship, they will find both O'Neill and Colonel Carter."

 

"Yeah," Daniel sighed. "When they find the ship."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Shit, he felt like crap. To say he was confused would be a gross understatement. One minute he was with Carter and then that...thing had appeared, with an attitude and agenda that rivaled any Goa'uld he'd ever encountered. Jack still wasn't sure what had happened, he remembered her hitting him—and damn, she packed a wallop. And the next thing he knew, he was back in some bizarre and twisted dream world where Ba'al was torturing him. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Sam was there, forced to watch...and worse. His memory of Sam throughout the whole ordeal was so vivid; it was like she was really there. He really hoped it had all just happened in his mind, because it had been bad, really bad. 

 

Somehow, he'd finally found the strength to fight the creature's control of his mind. He'd felt her rage at him, but the torture had stopped. But with Sam's continued absence, he was very much afraid that the creature was now torturing her. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He felt like he had the hangover from hell, the first time he'd tried to stand he'd felt so dizzy and sick to his stomach, he'd had to sit back down before he fell down. 

 

Which had given him plenty of time to think. In fact, he couldn't seem to stop thinking, about Sam, his son, that whole damn dream sequence at the lake. Was that what he really wanted? Hell, he'd give anything to have his son back, but not his sanity. The memory of seeing Charlie as a young man was bittersweet. And dream or not, he'd treasure the memory of that morning they'd gone fishing. Which led him to the other participant in the dream. Sam, his ever faithful second, until he'd been promoted.

 

He'd loved her for so long, and suppressed that love for so long, that he could almost convince himself that it didn't exist. That his heart didn't beat a little faster when he saw her, that he treasured the brief glimpses of her face, her smile. He missed her intensely. He missed going on missions with her, needing no excuse to be in her company because he was supposed to be in her company. He hadn't truly appreciated how isolated he'd be as General at the SGC until he'd had to sit in that office and watch the world happen outside his window.

 

He'd watched as she'd fallen in and out of love with Shanahan. He was actually getting used to watching the various men who had fallen for her, confident in the bond they shared. It had almost been severed with Shanahan, but at least for him, it had survived. He suddenly remembered what Ba'al—or whoever—had said during his latest torture session at the Replicator's hands. _"You think she loves you, but she doesn't. She isn't capable of loving. She has shown this time and time again. She'll only use you and then leave you, broken and bleeding."_ And god help him, he'd spoken the truth back. _"It doesn't matter. I still love her."_

 

Which led him back full circle. Was that creature right? Did he really want his old life back—or at least the life where he wasn’t in charge of who lived and died? He'd made the right decision and Sam had still almost died. Hell, she might be dead even now. That evil twin of hers seemed intent on torturing them both. For what, he couldn’t even begin to imagine. But the creature's malevolence was so specific and directed, he knew it wasn't acting out of morbid curiosity. This thing wanted them to suffer. 

 

Fuck, he was wasting time. He felt marginally better, and this time when he got up, his head didn't start spinning, so he walked carefully to the door. Surprisingly, no Replicators met him there. He took a few cautious steps into the corridor and then with growing confidence, down the hall. The first two doors he came to wouldn't open for him. He continued on to an intersection and went right. Halfway down, a hatch was partially open and when he looked in, he saw her, huddled up on the floor.

 

Wary of being tricked again, he crept carefully to where she lay. She was so still, her skin so pale it was almost translucent. He knelt down and touched her cheek; her skin was freezing cold. He felt for her pulse next, he had to press hard and then he could just barely feel it. Still cautious, he picked up her right hand, uncurling her fingers. The ragged wound she'd inflicted on herself earlier was there. 

 

"Sam," he whispered, gently jostling her shoulder. He said her name louder when she didn't react. Fear begin to creep in when she still didn't respond, maybe she was dead and not just unconscious? He shook her harder; she rolled lifelessly to her back. Truly frightened now, he laid his head on her breast, listening frantically for her heartbeat. Relief coursed through him, it was there—faint and way too fast—her chest barely rising with her breathing. Shit, he didn't know what to do, but training kicked in and he took off his jacket, wrapping it around her, hoping to warm her. He sat down and pulled her up into his arms, cradling her with her back against his chest. She stirred slightly and moaned. 

 

"Com on, Sam. Wake up," he urged. She didn't move or respond again, merely lay heavily against him. So, he held her and considered their options. They needed to find a way off the ship. Yeah, but to where? Even if he did manage to get control of the ship, he didn't know how to fly it. Sam might be able to figure it out, but given her current condition, he couldn't count on her. Jack reluctantly concluded the only course of action open to them was to survive—until help came. Providing they had figured out back at the SGC who had taken them. He had to be realistic though, he knew they'd search for as long as they could, but he also knew that sooner or later both he and Carter would be classified as MIA.

 

His arm was starting to go numb, so he shifted her until she lay with her head in his lap. He gazed down at her, wherever she was, it didn't look very peaceful. A slight frown marred her beautiful face, her forehead wrinkled. He stroked her hair, hoping it would soothe her. It soothed him and he had just drifted off into a light doze when a familiar voice roused him.

 

"What a beautiful picture." The other Carter stood in the hatch, her smile mocking. She stepped in; "Too bad it won't last."

 

Jack's hand had stilled on Sam's hair as soon as the creature had spoken. He had also felt Sam stiffen against him, so she was finally awake. Smoothing her hair back one more time, he carefully shifted her off his lap and got to his feet. It was time to get some answers.

 

"What do you want with us?"

 

"I had thought that would be obvious, General."

 

"Humor me. Sometimes I'm a little dense."

 

"Look at me."

 

He did and it struck him that in spite of the physical similarity, she really wasn't like his Sam at all. While his Sam was kindhearted, loving and generous, this one was anything but caring. It was like all that was good in her was gone—or had never been there to begin with. But then, she wasn't human, he reminded himself. No matter how hard they tried to be, they were still just machines, very sophisticated machines, but machines none the less.

 

"Yeah?" He really didn't know what she wanted him to see.

 

"How would you feel if you found out you were a mere copy? That your lover," she spat out the word, "who had created you, still longed for the original?"

 

So she was pissed because she wasn't the real Carter? "You know what I have to say about that? Get over it. You're not human, you never will be. And you will never, ever be Samantha Carter."

 

He had expected some reaction from her, so when she flew at him, crying with outrage, he was ready. But she was strong, and though he knew he was outmatched, he refused to just give up. She had him down in minutes, his jaw aching from where she'd hit him, sending him flying. Landing on his ass, he scrambled back, trying to get to his feet, but she had him backed up against the wall.

 

She stood over him, her face a picture of fury, and then grabbed the front of his T-shirt, hauling him upright. Her eyes were wild and if she had ever had any sanity, Jack knew it was long gone. "I hadn't planned on killing you so soon, but you're proving more trouble than you're worth."

 

"No!" 

 

Jack heard Sam shout and he watched in amazement as she flung herself across the room, tackling her twin. If the creature had subdued him quickly, she had Sam down in less than a minute. Jack was proud of her, but it had been an empty gesture, when the Replicator tossed her effortlessly onto the floor next to him. Jack quickly pulled her up and behind him. Sam's breathing was ragged and she leaned heavily against him, one slim arm wrapping around his waist.

 

"Oh, how brave of you, General, protecting your lover."

 

Sam took a shuddering breath, her arm tightening around him, but neither of them contradicted the creature. 

 

"It won't matter though."

 

"Please, don't kill him. I'll do whatever you ask," Sam pleaded.

 

"Carter, no!" he interrupted. He didn't know how, but there was no way he was going to let her trade her life for his.

 

"You will do whatever I want whether he's dead or alive. There is nothing you can offer me that will be more satisfying than watching your face while I kill him." The Replicator reached for him again and Sam wrapped both her arms around his chest, as if she could somehow protect him.

 

"No," she begged. "Take me instead!"

 

"Dammit, no, Carter!" he shouted, but the creature grabbed him by the throat, pulling him out of Sam's arms. The duplicate's hands were like iron bands around his neck, cutting off his airway. He struggled impotently, pulling at her wrists, but to no avail. She lifted him up until he was suspended almost on his toes. He was getting dizzy and his vision was fading. He could still hear Sam pleading in the background and sensed that she was still struggling with the creature. The pressure on his throat eased momentarily when his attacker let go with one hand and backhanded Sam, sending her flying across the room. He grabbed at her wrists again, but it didn't slow her down.

 

Over the roaring in his ears, he heard the telltale scurrying of Replicators, dozens suddenly swarming into the room. And then he was sure he was hallucinating, because the wall opposite him started to move. Jack had thought he was beyond surprise, but his eyes widened in shock when Fifth appeared out of the wall. He tried to call out, but he couldn't draw any breath, however she must've sensed the other's presence. She turned her head, a guttural cry escaping her when she saw the other Replicator.

 

"Let him go."

 

Jack fell to the floor when she dropped him, landing awkwardly and gasping for air. He lay there, trying to catch his breath, watching the drama unfold between the two creatures. She looked almost frightened, and started backing away from the advancing male Replicator, the tinier insect-like Replicators swarming all around the room. 

 

"This is all your fault! You shouldn't have used me as a substitute for her!"

 

The arguing Replicators, as well as the frantically scurrying smaller ones, ignored him when he crawled over to where Sam lay. Jack pulled her limp body into his arms and then scooted back as far away from the Replicators as he could.

 

"You should have trusted me." 

 

The Carter look-alike was backed up against the wall, her palms held outward in a pleading gesture. Jack realized she was frightened, but she didn't back down.

 

"I did trust you! And look where it got me—where it got us." She gestured toward the swarming Replicators. "We need more technology, we need more neutronium."

 

"Your obsession with these humans is not obtaining more technology. You have revealed our existence needlessly."

 

"No, they won't find us, I was careful." She paused then, holding her hands out toward the smaller Replicators, a look of concentration on her face. Confusion and fear filled her eyes. "What have you done?" she demanded.

 

"They will no longer answer to you." As if on cue, the milling Replicators began swarming en masse toward the woman. The fear on her face was palpable and it seemed like she was on the verge of defeat, when she suddenly screamed and launched herself toward Fifth. The room filled with Replicators, streaming in through the hatch, down the walls and from the ceiling, the two struggling human figures going down amidst the swarming throng.

 

Jack held onto Sam tightly, trying to protect her and himself, all the while praying that the storming Replicators would continue to ignore them. And then amid the chaos of the attack, a brilliant white beam enveloped him and Sam, transporting them off the Replicator vessel. This time when Jack materialized on the other ship, he knew immediately where he was. The familiar minimalist design of the Asgard vessel was immensely reassuring.

 

"Thor, buddy?" He carefully laid the still unconscious Sam to the floor and stood, his abused body groaning in protest. 

 

"O'Neill." The tiny alien appeared from behind a large console. "It is good to find you alive and well."

 

"Yeah, same here. You've got great timing," he added.

 

"Which I must continue to put to use. Please excuse me," his hands moved deftly over the console, rearranging several disks, "while I activate the weapon." Thor looked up then and Jack could almost swear the little guy had a smile on his face. "They have been neutralized."

 

"That's great news, Thor. And I'd like to chat some more with you about it, but right now I'm worried about Carter." Jack knelt back down next to Sam, once more feeling for her carotid pulse to reassure him that she was still alive.

 

Thor walked over to them. He held another oval disk in his hand and slowly moved it over her body. "Her physical injuries are mild, but there are some anomalies on her neural scan."

 

"She was with them for over two weeks, at least she disappeared two weeks ago. There was one...." Images of Ba'al and Sam suddenly flashed through his memory and he paused, trying to regain his composure. Smoothing her hair back off her forehead, he didn't think he'd ever be able to comprehend the hatred that had motivated the female Replicator to take out her jealousy on Sam. "Who tortured her repeatedly I think, with that mind-meld thingy they do."

 

Thor's dark eyes were grave. "I will know more once I transport her to this ship's medical bay. But I fear her psychological trauma will far outweigh her physical damage."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

She wondered what it was going to be like, locked in an eternal nightmare world, courtesy of her Replicator self, doomed to spend the rest of her life living out the other creature's perverted fantasies. A small voice of reason inside her told her otherwise, very quietly and with conviction, but she ignored it. The last real memory she had was of the Replicator killing Jack. So, it really wasn't possible that he was currently standing outside the curtain that surrounded her infirmary bed talking to Doctor Brightman.

 

"So, what are you saying, Doc? That she has amnesia?"

 

It should have bothered her that they were discussing her like she wasn't there...but then, she wasn't? Was she?

 

"No, not amnesia. Colonel Carter appears to be suffering from severe depression. I also think she's suffering from a form of Depersonalization Disorder, but I can't be sure, because she won't talk to me. But, from what you've told me of your experiences with the Replicators, it seems likely."

 

"Depersonalize what?"

 

"Depersonalization Disorder, where the individual has a feeling of detachment or estrangement from themselves. They feel like they're living in a dream or a movie, like they're an outside observer of their life."

 

Sam almost smiled. Brightman had that part right anyway, she was living in a dream world, forced into the starring role of a movie she wanted no part of. 

 

"So, what's the treatment?"

 

"Time, counseling, anti-depressants, maybe intensive psychotherapy. Most of it will be up to her. The only way she can control her world right now is by not participating in it. And only she can decide when she'll come back to us."

 

But that was where Brightman was wrong, she didn't have any control over what was happening to her. And even though she was stuck in this Replicator hell, she wouldn't willingly participate in that creature's sick fantasies any longer. Sam heard the curtain being pulled back and opened her eyes, but she wouldn't look at them.

 

"Colonel Carter, how are you feeling today?"

 

She didn't say anything. What was there to say? She didn't feel anything....

 

"Doc?"

 

Sam recognized that tone in his voice and she didn't need to look at him to know he was silently asking the doctor to leave. Glancing briefly at the doctor, she saw her nod and turn to leave, the curtain closing behind her, the sound of her high heels tapping across the concrete floor reminding her of another time, another doctor. _Why isn't Janet here if she really wants to punish you?_ The voice inside her was right...but she turned a deaf ear. 

 

And then Jack was talking...and touching her. Oh god, it was just the brush of his fingers on the back of her hand, but she could feel it all the way to the soles of her feet. How could it feel so real? 

 

"Carter...Sam." He paused and she didn't even wonder why he'd used her first name. "Dammit, look at me!" His fingers were on her chin then, turning her face up towards his. She looked at him, but kept her face deliberately blank. His expression was one she'd never seen before. Confused, scared, feelings she had longed to see in him suddenly exposed. 

 

"What did she do to you?" he murmured, his dark brown eyes filled with compassion. 

 

She'd asked him the same thing once and it wasn't a question that really needed an answer. What could she say? He already knew. 

 

 _Tell him, he'll understand, he'll help you._ She lowered her eyes, looking down at her hands. 

 

His hand dropped to his side and he sighed, but it wasn't a sound of defeat. "Doc?" he shouted. 

 

She heard the determination and resolve in his voice and wanted to cover her ears, afraid of what he was going to say, but she didn't. 

 

There was the swish of the curtain. "Yes, General?"

 

"Is there any reason Colonel Carter has to stay here?"

 

"Well...no. No physical reason."

 

"Good."

 

His next words shocked her and she felt a tiny glimmer of hope amidst the despair that engulfed her.

 

"Carter, you're coming with me. Doc, have her ready by fifteen hundred."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Daniel lounged in one of the chairs across from Jack's desk, watching as he stuffed the few personal items that he'd managed to accumulate during his tenure as CO of the SGC into a box. 

 

"So, you're just taking a medical leave, right?"

 

"I'm retiring, Daniel."

 

"That's not what the memo says." Daniel waved a piece of paper idly in the air.

 

"Yeah, I know what the memo says. Hammond thinks I'll change my mind." Jack snatched the memo out of his hand and crumpled it up, tossing it into the wastebasket. "Daniel, there is no way the Air Force will condone what I'm about to do. But at least this way, I can try and protect her as much as I can. Hell, I'm probably still going to ruin her career."

 

"So, why do it?" Daniel wasn't questioning his judgement, really. And while he had long been aware of the tangled feelings between his two friends, he wanted to hear Jack's reasons for himself.

 

"Daniel, you don't know how they fuck with your mind. You've never had one of those things stick their hand into your skull and scramble your brain."

 

"No, I haven't. But what makes you think you can help her more than Brightman or any of the other specialists?"

 

"Because it used me too, Daniel. It used me to hurt her."

 

"And what makes you think this won't hurt her more?"

 

Jack's eyes were suddenly shuttered, his expression grim. "I don't think that's possible."

 

Daniel couldn't remember a time when he'd seen Jack look so bleak—or so determined. "So, what can I do to help? Where are you taking her?"

 

"To the cabin."

 

"You're going to drive?"

 

"No, I think flying will be easier on her." Jack closed up the box and looked around the office.

 

"How will you get around?"

 

"I have an old pickup at the cabin." Apparently satisfied that he had everything, he picked up the box. "We'll be fine."

 

"It's the end of October, Jack."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Won't it be getting cold?"

 

"The cabin is winterized. We'll be fine, Daniel."

 

Unfortunately, Daniel wasn't so sure about that. Though they might be able to withstand a blizzard; healing Sam's mind might prove more treacherous. But he knew Jack would die himself before he'd do anything to harm Sam. Daniel followed him out into the hallway. "Well, if you need anything...."

 

Jack nodded. "You'll hear from me."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The wind was cold blowing across the lake, what few leaves were left on the trees rustling in the brisk breeze. Jack pushed the wedge into place, positioning to it to split the larger log before picking up the axe again. The sounds of metal hitting the wood filled the air, but Sam didn't seem to notice, beyond an initial flinch when he'd first started. But then, she didn't seem to care much about anything. She was outside, because he had bundled her up in a jacket, hat and gloves and brought her out with him. 

 

So far, he'd been the epitome of patience and understanding with her, giving her time to heal. He accepted her silence and monosyllabic responses to his questions. Initially, he had been worried that she wouldn't do anything for herself, but she hadn't deteriorated to the point where he had to attend to her personal needs. She still dressed herself, fed herself, but only at his urging—or with his permission, he suddenly realized. 

 

And in spite of the fact that her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, she was still unhealthily pale and losing weight. She was wasting away in front of his eyes. Maybe he'd been an arrogant SOB in over-ruling Brightman and whisking Sam away from the SGC. But if the doctor had truly thought he was going to make Sam worse, she would have over-ruled him in a heartbeat. Time, he kept reminding himself. All she needed was time and all he needed was patience. Time he could give her, patience was proving to be a scarcer commodity. But for Sam, he'd find it. 

 

Putting the axe away, Jack picked up an armful of wood. "Come on, Sam," he called to the silent figure looking out at the lake. "Time to go inside."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam sat on the sofa trying to get warm. It seemed like she was always cold. She wished Jack would build up the fire, but he was busy cleaning up after lunch. She wondered uneasily if he would get mad if she added a few logs to the fire. He was starting to get more impatient with her, she could tell. His voice had been tinged with exasperation when he'd gently chided her for not eating more. So, she'd choked down the entire bowl of soup even though it tasted like sawdust, which had earned her a smile from him.

 

She was doing her best to be good, to do as she was told and not get in his way. So far this illusion wasn't so bad, there wasn't any pain and he was kind to her. But she knew she needed to keep on pleasing him, so the pain wouldn't start. 

 

_Jack will never hurt you, her inner voice told her. But this isn't Jack, she reminded herself forcefully. No matter how kind he is...._

 

If he followed his usual routine, he'd take a nap after lunch, and she had no reason to doubt today would be any different. She knew what she needed to do; to keep him happy, even though the prospect of it terrified her. She waited until she heard him walk down the hall toward the bedrooms, and then she waited another fifteen minutes before she worked up the courage to follow him.

 

The room was dim, the curtains drawn. He lay on his back, a brightly colored afghan over his legs. She moved cautiously to the far side of the bed, quietly slipping her shoes off and sitting down on the bed. The mattress shifted beneath her as she moved, she leaned over him and he stirred, his eyes slowly opening. Her hand trembled when she reached out to touch his cheek. His skin was warm, which surprised her. He hadn't shaved for several days, the stubble rough against her fingers. 

 

"Sam?" He sounded confused, his eyes dark and wary.

 

She tried to summon a smile, but couldn't, so she simply gave up, closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his. The first thing she realized was that she could feel his breath on her face, against her mouth. She moved her hand to his chest, pressing it against the soft flannel of his shirt. His chest rose and fell raggedly, his heart beating strongly against her hand. 

 

_Tell him. He'll help you._

 

Sam's determination wavered; hope and desperation warred within her. Pressing her mouth harder against his, she tried to deepen the kiss, sweeping her tongue along his lips.

 

Hard hands gripped her shoulders and forced her away. "Sam, what the hell?"

 

Desperation was winning. "Isn't this what you want?" she pleaded.

 

"Yes...no...I mean, not like this."

 

"Jack?" His words triggered something inside her.

 

He nodded, releasing her shoulders and sitting up. 

 

She scooted away from him, wrapping her arms around her legs, shaking with fear and reaction. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Please don't hurt me."

 

Horror filled his face and when he reached out and caressed her cheek, she forced herself not to flinch away from him. "I would never hurt you."

 

She laughed raggedly. "Jack O'Neill would say that. But you're not him."

 

"Who am I?" 

 

She smiled sadly. His voice was calm and he asked the question so casually, she found herself answering him. "You're one of them."

 

The look of shock on his face was so real that she wanted to cry, but his voice was even when he spoke. "Do you remember back on the Replicator ship? When I thought you were one of them?" She nodded. He took her left hand, turned her palm up and gently traced the fading scar. "You cut yourself, so I could see your blood." 

 

Sam nodded again and he released her hand. He shifted, reaching into his pants' pocket and then handed her his pocketknife. Her hands were shaking so much; he had to help steady them, but somehow she managed to open the blade; her eyes flew to his and he nodded. He rested his much larger hand in hers and she was overwhelmed with emotion. 

 

She knew this hand, the inherent strength and tenderness of those elegant fingers, imbued with equal portions of tenderness and ruthlessness. She had even felt them on rare occasions; a pat on the shoulder, a friendly hug, a forbidden caress. 

 

And she knew even without seeing the blood, that somehow this was real. That he was real. "No," she whispered, the knife falling from her hand.

 

He picked it up and held it out to her. "Do it."

 

"No," she said firmly, despite the tears that filled her eyes. "I know who you are...Jack." When she dissolved into tears, the knife was quickly put away and she was in his arms. Those strong hands held her close and stroked her hair while she sobbed against his shoulder. She cried until she didn't have any tears left, her sobs eventually subsiding into ragged breaths and she lay exhausted against him.

 

"Better?" he asked, from over her head.

 

"I don't know," she murmured, brushing at her eyes with her fingers. "I feel like I've been living in a nightmare for months." 

 

"You were." He handed her a tissue, which she gratefully accepted. "You disappeared close to a month ago."

 

"How long were you there?"

 

"About a week."

 

"What happened...it happened to you, too?" She was afraid to hear his answer, but she had to know.

 

"Most of it."

 

She slid off the bed and wouldn't meet his eyes. So, he knew...which would explain his reaction when she had kissed him.

 

"Sam?" He reached for her hand as she walked around the bed. She gave an experimental tug, but he held fast. She looked at him, steeling herself for the censure she knew she'd see there...but the only thing she saw was compassion. "You were a victim. We were both victims."

 

It was true, but it didn't make it any easier. She nodded, pulling gently on her hand, and this time he let go. "It doesn’t make it any easier," she murmured and left the room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The evening had been strained; she could sense that while Jack didn't expect her to immediately be her usual self, but he still expected more than she could give. She almost felt it would be easier to slip back into that other world, because at least there, she felt oddly safe and she knew what was expected. And since it wasn't real, what she felt or did, didn't matter. But here in the 'real' world, she found she wasn't any less confused or scared. And even though she dreaded going to bed and being separated from Jack, it was almost a relief when he turned the TV off after the ten o'clock news.

 

Sam sat on the twin bed in the small second bedroom and listened as Jack got ready for bed in the next room, the sound of the toilet, the water running in the sink. She imagined him getting prepared, brushing his teeth and all the little things one does before getting into bed. She sat there long after she heard movement in his room cease, the entire house quiet, the only sound that of the wind moving through the trees outside. She hadn't realized it until she was no longer with him, but his steady presence was what had kept her grounded in this reality.

 

It was midnight before she eventually moved, taking her time in preparing for bed; careful to be quiet so she wouldn't wake him. But the time still passed too fast and when she finally lay down, it wasn't to sleep; she lay in the dark and stared at the luminous dial of the clock. Before, when she hadn't known what was real, the nightmares she had while she slept weren't any different than her waking hours. But now she was afraid to close her eyes, terrified of what could happen in her dreams.

 

The hands of the clock crept slowly to one o'clock. Her eyes were dry and gritty; she was finding it harder and harder to keep them open. And when they did drift down, they flew open immediately when she was assailed with images of Fifth, Ba'al, her evil twin. She rolled to her back, eyes wide and staring in the dark. 

 

_He'll help you._

 

Before her courage could desert her, Sam got out of bed. The wooden floor was cold on her feet, but she didn't care. She didn't turn on any lights, the soft glow of the nightlight in the hall guiding her way. His door was slighlty ajar and she slipped into his room. It wasn't a problem that the light was minimal, she eased carefully through the room and around the bed, since she already knew he'd be sleeping on the side closest to the door. Standing for a moment at the side of the bed she looked at the quiet form under the covers, he hadn't moved at all. 

 

Her hand was shaking when she felt through the dark for the covers and it was with an almost audible sigh of relief that she at last slid into bed with him. It was only when she was close enough to feel the warmth from his body, sense the rise and fall of his chest and hear his slow, even breathing that she relaxed. She eased as close as she could to him without actually touching him. She could smell him, warm herself in the heat emanating from his body and it still wasn't enough. Her heart was racing again, but she had to risk it. 

 

Sam's eyes closed on an unexpected rush of peace when her hand brushed against the soft cloth of his T-shirt. It would have to do, she didn't want to wake him and risk having him throw her out. She didn't want anything more from him than just the knowledge that he was there and the security his presence offered. And then maybe she could sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jack rolled over and pulled her closer, nuzzling his nose in her hair. In his half-awake state, part of him knew that he should be alone in the bed, but she was warm and soft and he just wanted to enjoy the luxury of holding her in his arms before he had to wake up and let her go. He knew he should open his eyes and find out what had brought her to his bed. But that would mean facing reality. 

 

"Fuck." Jack rolled over and threw his arm over his eyes. He was a bastard. Sam didn't need him fantasizing about her in his bed. He heard the rustle of the bedclothes and when he peeked out from under his arm, he saw that she had sat up and was resting her arms on her up drawn knees. It was morning, he thought as he turned his head, or at least it would be soon, according to the clock on the nightstand. He could hear the rain outside, the wind blowing it against the window. They'd be staying indoors today, unless he could persuade her to take a walk in the rain. 

 

He looked back at Sam. She had to know he was awake, but she hadn't moved or spoken. So he broke the silence. "Why?"

 

She stiffened, but wouldn't look at him, which set all his alarms off. He sat up then and turned the bedside lamp on, all thoughts of warm and sleepy Sam pushed out of his mind. Not knowing what else to say, Jack fell back on his usual MO. "Not that I mind," he said lightly. "God knows, I've wanted you in my bed for, well...years."

 

She spoke so softly, he almost couldn't hear her and he had to strain to hear each word. "When I was on the Replicator ship, all I wanted was to be rescued. And I was and I waited for everything to be okay. But it wasn't. I still feel like I’m fading in and out." Her voice dwindled to a whisper, "Except when I'm with you."

 

"Sam, you know it will take time. It always takes time." It was trite and seemed pretty damn meaningless in the face of everything that they had faced, but that didn't make it any less true.

 

Bleak blue eyes looked at him, a heartbreakingly bereft expression on her pale face. "Sometimes I still feel his hands on me, hear his voice, feel his hot breath on my cheek."

 

Jack knew whom she was talking about. Even through the haze of pain and confusion, he had seen what had happened to her. Had closed his eyes, unable to watch, sick at heart because he hadn't been able to stop it. And he hated that Replicator bitch more than he hated Ba'al, for what she'd done to Sam—and to him.

 

"It didn't happen," he murmured gruffly.

 

"That doesn't make it any less real."

 

"No," he said, an uneasy feeling growing in his gut. Reaching for one of her hands, he threaded his fingers through her freezing ones. "This is real. What happened on that ship was just the sick and twisted illusion of that thing."

 

Her eyes dropped to their joined hands and he saw her shudder, and then she pulled her hand free. Jack released her; suddenly afraid he'd pushed her too hard, when she shifted to kneel next to him, placing her hand on his chest. Her voice was thick with unshed tears. "Make me real." 

 

"Sam," he muttered, her plea twisting his guts. He understood her motivation and he couldn't hide the fact that he wanted her, his body already reacting to just the mere suggestion of making love to her. God, he didn't want to reject her again, though it was probably debatable what would actually hurt her more. 

 

Tears spilled down her pale cheeks. "I'll understand if you don't want to...to touch me, after everything." She laughed then, a harsh and ragged sound. "I know you could never want me." 

 

If she hadn't been so serious and on the edge, he would have laughed as well. He sat up quickly and before she could move away, he cradled her face between his hands. "I've always wanted you, that has never changed." 

 

The look of disbelief on her face surprised him and anger filled him. He thought, for not the first time, that the Replicators had gotten off way too easy when the Ancients weapon had killed them. They should have had to suffer, the way they had made Sam suffer. He brushed his thumb in a tender caress over her lips. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, watching her intently even as he surrendered to the inevitability of the moment.

 

"Yes," she whispered. "I need you, Jack."

 

Blood surged through his body with her words. He'd waited so long to hear her say those very words, that he didn't even care that she was just using him to stop the pain. Maybe later, when he could think of something more than losing himself in her soft body, he would care. But that would be a different moment and right now, she was his reality. 

 

He wanted to be gentle, caring and tender...everything that had been missing during her ordeal. To somehow erase her false memories and replace them with the only truth that mattered. She turned her face and kissed his palm, before slipping out of his grasp and lying back against the pillows. He followed her down, stretching out on his side next to her. His hand trembled when he reached out to caress her cheek; her eyes were still shadowed and Jack wondered what it would take to put the light back in them. Her skin was smooth and so soft, his fingers slid into her hair and he watched her too somber eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers. 

 

He felt her stiffen against him, one slim hand gripping his shoulders and her eyes now wide open, but she didn't push him away. The first touch of his lips against hers was brief and fleeting. Her breath washed over him on a soft sigh and he could tell she was starting to relax with the tender, undemanding kisses. When her eyes finally drifted shut and the hand on his shoulder urged him closer, Jack felt a surge of relief and carefully deepened the kiss. 

 

Jack kissed her with care and persistence. Her lips trembled beneath his, opening to his gentle demand. Settling more fully onto her now, Jack took his time, gentling her to his touch, his taste, his strength, as he enveloped her in his passion. Stroking his tongue into her mouth, he teased her and tasted her sweetness. One hand lazily caressed her ribs, trailing down her side to the edge of her soft, cotton pajama top before sliding beneath. 

 

Her skin was warm and she jumped slightly when his cooler hand caressed her. "Sorry," he murmured against her mouth, nipping at her lower lip. "But you know what they say," he drawled, tracing the line of her jaw with his tongue. "Cold hands, warm heart." She made a soft sound that was almost a laugh and then gasped when his hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushing smoothly over the already tightening nipple. 

 

"Okay?" he asked, pulling his head back from his exploration of her neck, so he could see her eyes. 

 

"Yes," she assured him, equal parts of passion and unease reflected in her deep blue eyes. Jack brushed tender kisses on her cheeks, nose, forehead, all the while continuing to fondle her breasts beneath her pajama top. Needing more, he slowly pulled away. 

 

Sam's eyes flew to his, panic flashing briefly in her eyes. "What?" she whispered.

 

"Nothing," he reassured her, kissing the tip of your nose. He sat back and pulled his T-shirt off, flinging it to the floor. Her eyes flashed with appreciation, which gave him the encouragement he needed to reach for the hem of her top. She froze for a moment and Jack could only imagine what memory had flashed through her mind, when she visibly relaxed and held out her arms towards him. 

 

Jack tugged the top over her head and she helped, shifting for him as he slowly removed the fuzzy blue top. Letting it drop from his hands to the bed, Jack's eyes hungrily roved her pale body. He knew she had lost weight, he could see it in the sharpness of her ribs and the memory of her slight weight resting against him in the bed. But her breasts were still full and round, her nipples a rosy pink and puckered tightly from his caresses. She shifted her arms, her hands fluttering awkwardly over her chest. 

 

"No," Jack murmured urgently, gently grasping her wrists before he realized what he had done. "God, Sam, I'm sorry," he apologized, quickly releasing her. "I just—"

 

Two fingers pressed lightly against his lips. "Shhh..." she murmured. "It's all right. I know you won't hurt me."

 

Humbled to the depths of his soul by her trust, he captured her hand before she could pull it away, kissed her palm. "Never," he affirmed. He began seducing her in earnest then, stroking her breasts, her firm belly, and trailing kisses along her throat. Focusing on her breasts, his large hands kneaded them gently, sucking leisurely at her nipples. She was soft and pliant, her hands lightly caressing his hair, his shoulders, and his back. But Jack could sense that she was holding back. Perhaps not consciously, but the fire and passion he knew burned within her was hidden beneath her pain and insecurity. It didn't stop him from wanting her though, her tentative caresses, along with the heady stimulation of actually touching and kissing her was pushing him rapidly toward the inevitable.

 

His caressing fingers brushed against the waistband of her pajama bottoms, gliding smoothly beneath the soft flannel. He felt the momentary stiffening of her muscles beneath his hand before she relaxed again. Probing through her soft curls, he looked at her face, but her eyes were closed, her head turned away from him. He carefully withdrew his hand and turned her head toward him with a gentle touch on her chin. 

 

"Sam." 

 

She opened her eyes and Jack wondered sadly if he'd ever see them smiling and happy again. "We don't have to do this." He had meant it when he said he would never hurt her. "We can wait until you're feeling...better."

 

"No," she said quietly, her eyes pleading with him. "Just do it."

 

"Sam." His voice was almost pleading as well, because as bad as he wanted her, he didn't want her this way.

 

"Please...Jack," she begged, her hands framing his face. "Help me."

 

He searched her face, trying to see past the fear and shame to the woman he knew. The woman who trusted him, respected him, who would lay down her life for him. And he knew he could do this for her. He smiled tenderly at her, a look of relief immediately filled her face and she gave him a tremulous smile. 

 

Jack leaned down and kissed her. "I'll be right back," he whispered against her lips, levering himself out of the bed before she could protest. The chill morning air was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bed and the woman he'd just left, but this wouldn't take long. Making his way swiftly to the bathroom, Jack rummaged through the medicine cabinet, finally locating the jar of Vaseline.

 

He'd been gone for less than five minutes, yet when he returned, she was curled up under the covers with just the back of her head visible. Jack paused only long enough to set the tub of ointment on the nightstand, before slipping back into bed with her. "Sam, honey," he murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

 

She rolled to her back and looked up at him, her eyes deep blue wells of sorrow. "It was cold without you."

 

His eyes darkened and he felt the lust that had never completely died flare back to life. For beneath the sadness in her eyes, he could hear the longing in her voice. "I'll warm you," he promised.

 

He was delighted when her lips curved into a slight smile and when she reached up, her hands urging him closer, he enfolded her in his arms and began seducing her all over again. The time for indecision was gone and Jack was determined to give her what she wanted—a new reality. Slow, deep kisses, never mind that he was doing most of the kissing, but she was soft and pliant, opening her mouth to his questing tongue. He stroked and caressed her with sure hands, fondling the silky skin of her breasts, tracing the fine line of her ribs, stroking her firm belly. 

 

This time when his fingers brushed against the flannel of her pajama bottoms, he didn't even pause, sweeping them down and off in one smooth movement. Sam didn't hesitate, but lifted her hips, moved those long legs and helped him. He stroked his hand up one leg in a long, slow caress, coaxing her knees up. He heard her breath catch, but she moved for him, easing her legs apart. Jack quickly shed his boxers and stretched one long arm to the bedside stand, grabbed the jar of Vaseline and tucked it under the pillow.

 

Her hands gripped his shoulders when he covered her with his hard body, cradling him between her thighs. Jack almost lost it then, the sensations overwhelming him. The strong thighs that hugged his hips, the smooth feel of her belly cradling his erection, her breasts soft against his chest and her slender arms wrapped around his shoulders. Kissing her deeply, he trailed his hand along her ribs, across her abdomen and finally stroking through her soft curls, carefully assessing her arousal. She flinched, her legs tightening around him, her nails suddenly digging into his back.

 

"Easy," he breathed, cupping her soft flesh with his hand, his eyes once more seeking hers. 

 

She was panting softly, her eyes wide open. "It's okay," she whispered. "Don't stop."

 

He dropped a kiss on her forehead and then locked his eyes with hers as he slowly resumed his probing caresses. She was damp, but nowhere near ready enough, and Jack had little hope of improving that, given the tension he could still feel radiating from her. Resting against her and stretching his arm out, Jack snagged the jar of Vaseline from under the pillow. Fumbling with one hand, he managed to get the lid off and scooped a generous amount out with two fingers. 

 

Not the most romantic thing, he thought somewhat grimly, gently smearing the slick petrolatum around. But then what they were doing had very little to do with romance and all to do with survival.

 

"Thank you," she murmured, her lips trembling when she tried to smile. Jack felt like he had taken another one of Ba'al's knives in his gut and he vowed that the next time they made love, it would be for all the right reasons. 

 

Positioning himself then, Jack slowly thrust into her. He watched her face carefully, for any sign of pain or discomfort. Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly and she looked unflinchingly at him, her eyes still too somber. Jack knew he wasn't hurting her and he wished that she even felt half of what he was feeling, because it felt so damn good, to finally feel her surrounding him as he sheathed himself fully inside her. 

 

Wrapping his arms around her, Jack settled his weight on her and started to move, thrusting slowly. He set an easy rhythm, not really expecting anything from the woman beneath him. But she surprised him, rocking gently against him, her legs wrapping around his waist and easing his possession. 

 

"It's okay," she whispered again, her eyes filled with something more now, a glimmer that only bore a vague resemblance to relief; and looked more like peace. 

 

It was enough though, to alleviate his mind, and Jack let the pleasure of finally making love to her wash through him. It didn't take long. When Jack felt the first stirrings of his orgasm, he didn't try to stop it, burying his face in her neck and letting the ecstasy pour through him, finding the ultimate release in her arms.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam twitched back the kitchen curtains. He was still out there, chopping wood, the sounds of the axe hitting the logs angry-sounding, even with the noise muffled by the house. She knew he was angry, and had been, ever since he'd left her in bed that morning. Oh, he'd been kind and attentive, fixing breakfast, encouraging her to shower and dress, insisting she go with him for a mid-morning walk after the rain had let up. But she'd known it was there, could sense it seething just beneath the surface of his solicitous demeanor. 

 

Lunch had been strained, at least for her. While the rational part of her knew he wasn't angry with her, the wounded and scared part of her was afraid that he was. Angry with her for not eating all the breakfast—or lunch—he'd made, for creeping into his bed during the night, for not responding when he'd made love to her. She knew she hadn't done anything more than just lay there like a lump while he did all the work. And he probably wouldn't believe her, but it had been the most caring and loving sex she'd ever had. 

 

She left the window and sat down at the table, taking a sip of her lukewarm tea. She supposed the one good thing was that ever since that morning, she had only felt a hint of the numbing isolation and separation from the world that had been plaguing her ever since their rescue. And the memory—and she still had to forcibly remind herself that it was just a memory—of Ba'al, had been replaced by Jack's face, his body, his hands. She almost felt like herself; she owed that, and so much more, to Jack.

 

Deciding that she was through letting things 'happen' to her, Sam stood and dumped the rest of her tea down the sink. Jack had made it clear that they were in this together, so if he expected her to share it all with him, then he had better be willing to do the same in return. Grabbing her jacket from the closet, Sam put it on and went out to face Jack. 

 

She stood a safe distance away, to avoid the flying wood chips, and watched him. He'd taken his jacket off, obviously working up a sweat even in the chilly and damp afternoon. She let herself watch him for a long moment, simply enjoying the sight. He was still strong and fit; the few months of sitting behind a desk hadn't turned him into flab. Of course, she remembered in almost guilty pleasure, she also knew that from personal experience. She shivered a bit, but not from the cold, and wrapped her arms around herself. He didn't stop what he was doing; though he had glanced her way when she'd first come out.

 

"Jack!" she called loudly. 

 

He looked at her, but didn't stop until he'd finished splitting the log he'd been working on; before he finally put the axe down. Wiping the sweat off his face with the tail of his flannel shirt, he walked over to her. "What's up?"

 

"You're angry." She wasn't going to tiptoe around him.

 

His eyes turned remote. "No, I'm chopping firewood." 

 

He turned to walk away from her, but she grabbed his arm. "Talk to me."

 

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?"

 

She felt herself flushing, but ignored his comment. "Are you angry with me?"

 

That got to him. "God, no." He looked disturbed that she would think that. "I'm not mad at you."

 

"Then who?"

 

He gave a harsh laugh. "Just who do you think, Sam?" He walked back over to the woodpile, hefting up another log. "Use that brilliant brain of yours."

 

"You're mad at the Replicators?"

 

The log hit the ground with a thud, wood chips flying. "Yeah, I'm mad at the Replicators." He picked up the axe, swinging it down forcefully, the log splitting into two pieces. "I'm pissed as hell that some...Sam Carter wannabe abducted you and fucked with your mind." He picked up one of the splits, positioning it on the chopping block. "Hell, fucked with my mind, too."

 

"What did she do to you?" She'd asked him that question before and he hadn't answered, she wondered if he would this time. 

 

The smaller log split with a loud crack. "Besides the lovely fun and games with Ba'al?"

 

Sam nodded; fear and pain crowding into her throat again, but she beat it down. It hadn't been real. "So, you were there too?"

 

He nodded; his eyes were remote again. He split two more pieces of wood.

 

His nod only confirmed what she had already suspected, the Replicator had used his memories of his time as a prisoner of Ba'al to torture him. "Is that what happened to you? After Kanan left you?"

 

"Most of it," he replied almost too calmly. "Of course, the big difference is that you weren't there, chained to the wall."

 

She shivered and stuffed her hands in her pockets, fighting down the shame and humiliation. "What he did, didn't hurt me as much as watching him kill you."

 

"What she did, Carter. What she did." 

 

Sam shrugged her shoulders, not sure if the semantics really mattered. "She hated me."

 

"Probably. But she envied you more."

 

Sam wasn't so sure about that, but she wasn't going to argue with him. Right now she had something else on her mind. "Was that all she did to you?" She suspected there had been more and she wasn't sure why, but she needed to know.

 

"No," he replied curtly; "There was more." 

 

He put the axe away and stacked the wood he'd just cut. When he picked up his discarded jacket and walked into the cabin without answering, she trudged after him. When she finally got back to the kitchen, his jacket was draped over the table and he was looking into the fridge. He took out a beer and Sam followed him into the living room. He stood silently by the large picture window. 

 

Sam took off her jacket, setting it on a nearby chair and went to stand by him. The mid-afternoon sun that had finally appeared was shining weakly through the almost bare trees, the only color in the drab scenery the green of the firs and spruce that surrounded the cabin. "Tell me."

 

Jack took a long swallow of the beer before he answered. "She gave me my heart's desire. Or what she thought was my heart's desire." He laughed then and it wasn't a pleasant sound. "Damn her to hell."

 

"What did she give you?" Sam asked, both terror and anticipation over what his answer would be filling her.

 

"A life. Here," he gestured out the window with his beer bottle, glancing sideways at her, "with Charlie...and you."

 

"Oh, Jack," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him. He stood stiffly in her embrace, his eyes focused on something only he could see outside the window. 

 

"Of course, it wasn't really you," he eventually murmured. "And Charlie, well, Charlie is gone. And I maybe considered it for a minute or two." Her arms tightened around him and she buried her face in his shoulder. "But it wasn't real."

 

And neither is this, Sam realized dully, doubt creeping in. Oh, she knew he was real and she was actually in Minnesota with him, at his cabin. They had made love; he had touched her and kissed her as if he cared for her, but as he had just said, it wasn't real. She was fooling herself if she thought he felt anything more than pity and responsibility for her. Because even if Jack didn't know it, there had been a common truth running through all the lies her twin had told her. He could never love her. Not after everything that had happened—and especially not after she'd turned her back on him and tried to have with another man what she couldn't have with him. 

 

"I'm so sorry," she murmured. Sorry that he had been forced to pay for her sins.

 

"It wasn't your fault."

 

Sam reluctantly loosened her hold on him and took a step back. "It was my fault. She knew how I felt about you and then abducted you to use in her twisted game with me."

 

"How you feel about me?"

 

It didn't matter anymore, so she told him. "That I love you." She hurried on, before he could say anything. "Don't worry, I know you're just doing all this because you feel responsible—"

 

He set his beer down on the windowsill and hard hands gripped her shoulders. "Because I what?"

 

"Because you feel responsible."

 

"Oh, I feel responsible all right."

 

"You shouldn't." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, finding it difficult to concentrate with him so close. But she had to make him understand. She opened her eyes and tried not to drown in his dark brown ones. "You may have told me at one time that you cared about me, but I understand that after...everything," she couldn't bring herself to mention Pete's name in front of him, "those feelings are gone."

 

"Why the hell would you think that?"

 

"Because how can you still love me after everything I've done to you?"

 

"You haven't done anything to me."

 

"Dammit, Jack. Don't patronize me."

 

"What do you want me to do, Sam? Find fault with you for going out with another man? Because I won't. If anything, you should be pissed with me for ruining your career."

 

"You haven't ruined my career. You know as well as I do that I'll be given a medical discharge because of this."

 

"Maybe."

 

"What about you? You resigned because of me."

 

"I resigned because I didn't join the Air Force to decide which potatoes should be ordered for the dining hall." He gave her a lopsided smile. "And maybe I resigned because I want more than what the SGC can offer me—even as its leader."

 

Sam could feel the line between reality and fantasy starting to blur. He was telling her things she had wanted to hear for years and she was scared to believe him. After all this time, it wasn't possible that they could finally be together, not when she was so screwed up. She couldn't breathe and she started to feel dizzy, the room spinning. "Jack—"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jack barely had time to catch her when she fainted. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her back to the bedroom—his bedroom. Screw doing the gentlemanly thing and putting her in her own room. For every step that he got closer to her, it seemed they took two back. Laying her gently on the bed, he took her shoes off, loosening the button of her jeans. He left her only long enough to wring out a washcloth with cold water and returned, placing it on her forehead. 

 

He sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her and holding one of her slender hands in his. She was so pale, she had been through so much and he kept pushing her. She was tough and she was strong, but even she had her breaking point. Something which that Replicator bitch had discovered. If he was her breaking point, then he would be her redemption. 

 

Blue eyes fluttered open. 

 

"Hey."

 

"What happened?" Sam lifted her head and looked around.

 

"You fainted."

 

"Oh." She let her head fall back on the pillow. "Sorry. Seems I'm nothing but trouble for you."

 

He lifted the washcloth off her, dropped it on the nightstand and then brushed her damp bangs back off her forehead. "The best kind of trouble." She smiled slightly, which was what he wanted. "What happened?" he asked. 

 

One hand plucked restlessly at the bedspread before she answered. "I started fading out again."

 

"And now?"

 

"It's better."

 

"I’m sorry."

 

"That's my line," she murmured.

 

He smiled, smoothing his fingers through her hair. "I thought that bringing you here would give you time to heal. I don't mean to keep wounding you."

 

"You haven't hurt me. You couldn't."

 

"There's pain...and then there's pain."

 

"Going all existential on me now, Jack O'Neill?" 

 

"It's all relative," he teased. 

 

"Jack?" She sounded so unsure again. "Even before all of this, my life was pretty screwed up."

 

"No—"

 

"Yes," she interrupted him. "And given my problems with reality, it looks to be screwed up for awhile yet."

 

"Time, remember? And we have plenty of time."

 

"Do we?" She sounded so wistful.

 

"Hey, I'm retired. And last I looked, you could pretty much write your own ticket. Part and parcel with being a national treasure."

 

She gave a very unladylike snort. "You're the only one who thinks that." She yawned then, belatedly covering her mouth and giving him an apologetic look.

 

"Tired?"

 

"I haven't been sleeping too well."

 

"Dreams?"

 

She nodded. "And nightmares."

 

Jack had the feeling her nightmares were similar to hers, so he could understand her sleeplessness. "If you want to take a nap, I'll lie down with you until you fall asleep," he offered casually.

 

"That would be nice." Her lips curved in a grateful smile that made his insides flop.

 

"Give me a sec." Jack took his boots off and then stood, going to the closet and getting out an extra blanket. Sam scooted toward the middle of the bed and he lay down, turning onto his side and pulling her back into the curve of his body. He covered them with the blanket and wrapped an arm around her. 

 

"Okay?" he asked, nuzzling her ear.

 

"Perfect," she replied, squirming a bit more before settling into his embrace.

 

"Then go to sleep." 

 

Jack lay quietly with her, feeling her respiration's quiet and slow down, her body soon resting more heavily against him as she fell asleep. It started to rain again; the sound of it hitting the roof soothing, but it was warm and cozy in the bedroom. One of his arms started to go numb, so he carefully pulled it out from under her. She muttered something and rolled to her back, but she didn't wake. 

 

Raising up on one elbow, Jack gazed down at her. So much had changed between them and yet so much remained the same. Unable to resist, Jack tenderly caressed her hair and then lay back down, resting his head on her breast and wrapping himself around her. He closed his eyes and let himself relax, with the sound of the rain and the soft warmth of the woman with him; he felt something approximating peace. She wasn't any more screwed up than he was, he decided on a yawn. Hell, between the two of them, they had enough baggage to fill a C-160. This last encounter with the Replicators had made all of their run-ins with the Goa'uld seem like a walk in the park. 

 

Jack sighed softly. It was long past time for him to really retire. He didn't care what Sam did, as long as it made her happy. Shit, she could clean and gut fish for a living and he wouldn't care. And if she stayed with the Air Force or got out of it completely, he'd be with her—because nothing was going to come between them again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam woke abruptly; shaken, chilled and panting. It isn't real, she reminded herself, trying desperately to separate her dream from what she prayed was real. The horror of her nightmare disappeared only when she opened her eyes and saw her reality—the short gray hair of her lover, his head a comforting weight on her chest, his arms and legs sprawled over and around her. She had no memory of what transpired in her messed up head while she slept, just a lingering taste of terror and a numbing sense of detachment. 

 

Jack snored softly against her and Sam managed a small smile, so much for just staying with her until she fell asleep. She craned her neck and managed to see the clock on the nightstand, 1530. They'd only been asleep a little over an hour. Shifting a bit, she casually stroked his hair. It hadn't been quite as frightening this time, waking up from the dream in his arms. But as much help as Jack had already been to her, she knew she needed more. 

 

Maybe she should have stayed in Colorado, even though she'd overheard Brightman talk about having her transferred to the psychiatric center at Sheppard AFB. She was glad now that Jack had intervened, and as unconventional as his therapy was, it had been what she needed. But, now that she was thinking more clearly, she realized she needed more help than Jack could give her, and as soon as it could be arranged, she'd start serious counseling with whomever Brightman recommended. As long as she didn't have to leave Jack and Minnesota for the visits, she amended.

 

But something else demanded her attention; carefully slipping out from under Jack, Sam staggered off to the bathroom. Using the facilities and washing her hands, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, only mildly dismayed by the pale, weary woman who looked back at her. She looked terrible, which was oddly comforting, because Jack had wanted her anyway. Chuckling softly, she splashed water on her face. Nice to know he liked her for more than her looks. Maybe even loved her, though he had yet to say the words. She looked at her reflection, cocking her head to the side. Did she need him to say them? It wasn't every man who would jeopardize his career and resign from a prestigious position to care for her. He didn't need to tell her, she acknowledged, he'd already shown her.

 

He was awake when she went back into the bedroom, propped up against the pillows, looking so relaxed and sexy it made her knees weak. His hair stuck out in spikes left from her fingers and sleep, and when he slowly smiled, she felt the impact down to her toes. She shouldn't have been that surprised by the sudden surge of desire flowing through her. It wasn't anything new, after all. She'd always been aware of him physically, and then later, vulnerable to him emotionally as well. What did surprise her was that she felt anything at all. Maybe she was getting better.

 

"Hey," she murmured by way of greeting, and with more confidence than she felt, she crawled back onto the bed with him.

 

"Hey, yourself," he replied easily, though she could tell by the concerned look on his face he was trying to gauge her state of mind. "Good nap?"

 

"Not too bad." It was partially true; it hadn't been as bad with him guarding her while she slept.

 

"More dreams?"

 

She hesitated, but then decided to tell him. "One. I don't remember anything, just being scared." 

 

He nodded. "Need some distraction therapy?" he asked, running the fingers of one hand lightly up her arm.

 

She quivered at his touch. It really wasn't fair that even his casual touch had such power over her. An unwelcome thought suddenly intruded. "Jack," she said urgently, "you do know I need you for more than just a distraction?"

 

"Hmm?" he murmured, leaning closer, both hands now involved in slowly caressing her. "You mean you don't want me as just your love machine?"

 

She actually laughed at his outrageous comment and then realized in delight that she had laughed. 

 

"What?" He pulled back and gave her a disbelieving look. "I’m not a love machine?"

 

She smiled and leaned towards him, forcing him back until she could lie sprawled against him. "Love machine, boy toy, Brigadier General Hottie—" He snorted, but she ignored him. "Doesn't matter, just so long as you're mine."

 

"Works for me."

 

"Good," she murmured, her breath catching nicely when his large hands slid slowly down her back to her butt, pressing her against his growing erection.

 

"How do you feel?" His voice was tender and his eyes were full of concern.

 

"Real," she managed to whisper, her voice husky from the tears clogging her throat. "I feel real." 

 

Lowering her mouth to his, she kissed him. He responded eagerly, though Sam could sense he was holding back, letting her set the pace. Which was fine with her, since she felt secure enough with him right now to continue with the light, teasing kisses. Delicately tracing her tongue along his lips, she easily coaxed him into opening his mouth, eagerly sweeping her tongue across his teeth, the soft inner recesses, stroking his tongue. He tasted so good, she knew she could kiss him endlessly. 

 

All the while they kissed, Sam was hazily conscious of Jack's hands stroking and caressing her back, tugging her sweatshirt up so he could run his fingers up her spine. She was so involved in the wonderful feel and taste of his mouth, she barely felt him undo her bra, only aware that the restriction to his caressing hands was gone. She squirmed against him, spreading her legs so that she almost straddled him and rubbed herself against his groin. His hands moved deliberately down her back, somehow working their way beneath her jeans to cup her ass. She whimpered his name, burying her face in his neck when he slowly rotated his pelvis beneath her.

 

"What do you want?" he rumbled against her ear.

 

"You," she moaned. Her world suddenly spun and Sam found herself on her back with Jack looming over her. 

 

"Why?" he demanded. "Just so we're both perfectly clear."

 

His dark eyes were unreadable, the easy humor and earlier laughter gone. She wasn't sure what motivated his question, but she could guess and she wasn't frightened of him, because she burned with the same urgency. The first time she had told him she needed him to replace her false memories of Ba'al; she had practically begged him to make love to her. And god knows, maybe he had as much insecurity about their complicated relationship as she did. It was sometimes hard for her to remember that he had suffered at the hands of her Replicator twin as well. 

 

Her hand trembled when she reached up to caress his cheek. "You make me real."

 

Fierce passion flared in his eyes, a look of pure male satisfaction filling his face. He lowered his head; she kept her eyes open, seeing nothing but the man who had set her free until he was just a blur and his lips captured hers in a possessive kiss. The tender, cautious lover of earlier that morning had been replaced with a man who would require everything from her. He didn't allow her time to adjust, his mouth demanding her immediate surrender. Sam responded completely, eager to finally experience the full extent of his passion. 

 

Deft fingers made quick work of her top and bra. She laughed breathlessly when their hands tangled together with the buttons of his shirt, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared frustration. Her hands had moved on and were already pulling up his T-shirt when he finally shrugged out of his shirt. Sam slowed down then; his T-shirt forgotten as she leisurely explored his chest. His skin was so warm, the muscles firm and the light dusting of hair tantalizingly rough against her fingers. But it seemed Jack wasn't as patient, as he somehow managed to pull his T-shirt off in spite of her caressing hands. 

 

"Good," she murmured. Leaning forward, she nuzzled her nose against his throat and then began pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone. He growled deep in his throat and she smiled with satisfaction, only to gasp with surprise, frantically gripping his upper arms when he tumbled her back down onto the mattress. 

 

"What?" she asked, more annoyed than anything that he was now out of her reach. He didn't say anything and his smile was definitely predatory. "Oh," she sighed, relaxing back against the pillows, her lips once more curving in a languid smile, when his hands fastened onto the waistband of her jeans. Deft fingers quickly undid the button and zipper, and when she raised her hips, he tugged the jeans and her panties off. 

 

"Socks," she reminded him, raising up on her elbows and lifting one slim leg. 

 

"Yes, ma'am," he rumbled. Pulling her soft wool socks off, he tossed them carelessly after the rest of their clothes. Sam was worried that she would start to feel self-conscious and exposed, lying naked before him. She knew she'd lost weight and she'd never been that voluptuous to begin with, but the warm look in his eyes and the lazy anticipation of his smile reassured her. 

 

"You are so beautiful," he murmured. Leaning down, he delicately licked along her collarbone, warm hands cupping both her breasts.

 

"No, I'm not," she replied automatically, relaxing once more against the pillows. Her breath caught on a small moan when he gently nipped the sensitive skin of her neck; his hands busy kneading her breasts.

 

"Are too," he muttered, trailing wet kisses down her breast bone.

 

"Am...not," she sighed, her eyes closing on a hot rise of pleasure when his mouth closed over a nipple. It was the sweetest of pleasures, feeling his mouth on her breast, sucking and teasing her tightening flesh. Her hands stroked slowly through his short hair while he caressed and fondled her breasts. Jack nuzzled his way over to her breast, the bristly rasp of his unshaven cheeks an erotic contrast to the moist heat and pressure of his mouth. Sam moved restlessly, the hot suction of his mouth sending unbelievable sensation spiraling through her body.

 

During their earlier lovemaking, she'd been too tense to enjoy the pleasure of his hands and his mouth on her; all her attention focused solely on the reality that it was Jack touching her. If the first time had been to replace her false memories of Ba'al with the truth of his love, then this time was for her pleasure. Her senses were on overload with the sheer power of his passion. Sliding one slim leg over his, she moved slowly against him, the rough texture of his jeans unexpectedly sensual against her bare skin. 

 

But this time, she needed so much more. "Jack," she whimpered, her hands gliding down his back to his waist, tugging impotently at the denim restricting her access. She moaned when he tugged gently on her nipple with his teeth and released her breast, clutching urgently to his shoulders when he tried to pull away.

 

"Easy," he murmured, his fingers gentle when he gripped her wrists. She didn't protest when he placed her arms back down at her sides, because his hands went immediately to the buttons on his jeans. He stood briefly, stripping his boxers off along with his jeans, and then he was back on the bed with her. 

 

She wanted to spend time looking at him, exploring the body that before had always been off-limits to her, but Jack immediately covered her body with his. He was heavy and Sam knew he was much stronger and more powerful than she was, but she wasn't scared. Not like she had been...back on the ship. Firmly shoving those memories away, she concentrated instead on what was real. 

 

While he was still tender and gentle, Sam sensed an urgency that hadn't been there before, an urgency that was slowly building in her as well. His caresses weren't tentative, he stroked her with confidence and determination, and she knew he expected her active participation this time. She only hoped she wouldn't disappoint him. Wanting to please him, this time for her benefit as well as his, Sam moved her hands in lingering caresses over his shoulders, down his back, the muscles rippling beneath her fingers as he moved. 

 

She arched her back, cradling his head in her hands when his mouth moved to breasts, his mouth and tongue teasing her nipples, before moving lower, placing soft wet kisses across her belly. Her hands tightened momentarily in his hair when he moved lower, his hands rearranging her legs, urging her to flex her knees. 

 

He must have sensed her hesitation, because he lifted his head, hooded brown eyes meeting hers. "It's okay," he rumbled, his hands stroked her inner thighs with light caresses. "Let me love you."

 

The surge of love that flowed through her in response to his tender concern started healing her in a way she couldn't even begin to comprehend. How could she have ever doubted that he was her other half? 

 

"Yes," she breathed, letting her fingers slid through his short hair in a soft caress, before letting them drop to her sides. She shifted, raising her knees and opening herself to him. His eyes flared with hot desire and he placed a tender kiss to the hollow of her hipbone. "Yes," she sighed again, when she felt his warm breath wash over her sensitive skin, followed by the tentative brush of his fingers.

 

Letting her head fall back onto the pillow, Sam closed her eyes. Every touch of his fingers, his mouth, sent electricity sparking through her, building her desire. When his mouth finally settled on her, she almost sobbed with relief, pure pleasure radiating throughout her in ever expanding waves of unimaginable sensation. He was devastatingly thorough, caressing her insistently with both his mouth and his hands, pushing her inexorably towards the ultimate rapture. 

 

Sam started to feel like she was floating away and she almost panicked, her hand groping for his head, her fingers tightening in his hair, anchoring herself to him. But then she realized she wasn't losing herself in the terror of her nightmares, she was losing herself in the overwhelming power of his love. Two fingers suddenly probed deeper and she gasped, her hips bucking against his restraining arm. She couldn't stop the slow rocking of her pelvis, pleasure escalating out of control until it coalesced into pure ecstasy and she surrendered to her lover.

 

"Jack," she moaned softly, when he eventually released her and crawled up her body. Random fragments of unbelievable pleasure still vibrated through her and it was all she could manage to cling to his broad shoulders when he settled his weight back on her. Sure hands moved over her, coaxing her knees up and she shifted for him, loosely wrapping her legs around his lean hips. 

 

"Sam," he murmured huskily. She opened her eyes and found herself looking straight into his deep brown ones and her breath caught at the fierce desire mixed with tender love that blazed from their depths. 

 

"I love you," she whispered. A look of intense satisfaction flashed across his face and he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her with something close to reverence. It was sweet and tender and unbelievable—and it left her wanting so much more. "Jack," she whimpered when his mouth left hers, her arms and legs tightening around him, trying to draw him closer. 

 

"Easy," he growled, rotating his pelvis slowly against her. This time, when she felt his heavy erection slipping through her slick folds, she was more than ready. And this time, when she watched his face as he carefully thrust into her, it wasn't to block out the memory of another, it was to memorize this moment forever. It was as if this was the first time—for everything. Every shimmer of pleasure, each subtle movement as she adjusted to his possession, was unexpected and unique. 

 

"I love you," she told him. The deep emotions coming to life within her compelled her to tell him again—and again. "I love you," she gasped, her legs tightening around him when he thrust deep, filling her completely.

 

"Good," was all he groaned, his eyes dark pools of primitive male satisfaction. She should have been annoyed or offended, feeling anything other than the contentment that filled her with his blatant possessiveness. He was her reality and nothing else mattered. 

 

Sam's eyes fluttered shut on a fresh rush of passion when he buried his face in the hollow of her shoulder and started moving. She clung to him tightly; her short nails dug into his shoulders as he thrust steadily into her, his powerful movements re-igniting the embers of her passion. Knowing she'd be satisfied with whatever happened, Sam concentrated wholly on pleasing her lover. Moving easily to the rhythm he established, she flexed some muscles and loosened others, all to amplify his pleasure.

 

A low growl of pleasure rumbled from deep in his chest, vibrating against her and she smiled fiercely, biting his shoulder. He continued pounding heavily into her and she accepted everything he had to give her. She felt as if her senses had become hyper-aware and she absorbed every sensation; the tempered power and strength of his lean body, the incredible friction as he moved within her, the intoxicating pleasure of finally being able to freely touch and caress him. 

 

Jack's powerful movements gradually became more erratic and then all she could do was cling helplessly to him, letting his passion carry them both along. Strong arms contracted firmly around her and he groaned her name harshly, thrusting deep and grinding his hips against her. She felt him in her very soul, gasping softly when a slow wave of unexpected pleasure crested and rolled gently through her. He shuddered endlessly against her and she held him, the hot wash of his seed deep inside her a primal reminder of their union.

 

He collapsed heavily on her, his body still trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm. Sam held him for a long time, stroking him with caresses designed to soothe and calm, gradually feeling his muscles relax and his breathing steady. "Okay?" she murmured, running her fingers gently through his hair.

 

She felt him move his head, nuzzling her hair, his breath warm against her ear. "Isn't that my line?"

 

Sam smiled, letting her fingers trail slowly down his back. "Maybe, maybe not," she answered idly.

 

"But yeah," he shifted, and she reluctantly let him go. He eased off her, resting on his side and looking down at her. His touch was incredibly tender when he brushed her bangs back off her forehead. "I'm more than okay."

 

"Good."

 

He lay back down and she curled up into his arms, pulling the blanket up over them. "What about you?" he asked, one hand idly stroking her hair 

 

"Better." 

 

Jack's hand stilled in her hair; she tilted her head up and looked at him. 

 

"Just better?" His tone was light but his eyes were shadowed with concern. 

 

"Lots better," she reassured him. 

 

"That's okay then."

 

Smiling, she nestled back onto his chest, his arms automatically wrapping around her. She felt so safe and secure with him, that she wished they could just stay like this forever. But that wouldn't really be any different than living in some Replicator created fantasy world, she realized sadly. Her mind drifted back to her earlier resolve to get more help and she knew the first step in that process would be to tell him what she wanted to do. Before she could lose her nerve, she blurted it out. "I'm going to call Brightman tomorrow."

 

"Oh?"

 

She took a deep breath, fighting back her sudden anxiety. Telling him wasn't going to be as easy as she had thought. But after everything that they had been through, she didn't want any secrets between them. "I think I need to get that counseling she suggested."

 

"Whatever you want." His reply was easy and his voice calm, but she could sense the sudden tension in his body.

 

"I don't want to leave here though...I don't want to leave you."

 

"Then you won't." 

 

It was all the reassurance she needed. Sam knew it wouldn't be as simple as this moment made it seem, but with his love as her anchor, she could start to believe that this reality was actually real. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

EPILOG

 

She heard the back door of the cabin slam and she smiled, her eyes on the stars while she waited for him.

 

"Whatcha' doing?" 

 

Strong arms closed around her and she leaned back against him, resting her hands on his arms. The night air was cold and crisp, their breath wafting around them like smoke. "Just looking at the stars. I'm going to miss them."

 

"You can still see the stars in Colorado Springs."

 

"Not like this." Not in the peace and quiet of the cold Minnesota night, the dark of night so black and the stars so bright that it took your breath away.

 

"We don't have to go back." 

 

They'd had this discussion numerous times in the three months they'd been at the cabin. She turned in his embrace and looked up at him, hoping she looked more confident than she actually felt. "We do," she replied firmly. And then amended it, "I do." 

 

She'd made tremendous strides in her progress, especially after she'd started visiting the psychologist in Duluth. The periods of feeling disconnected were rare now, but she had to prove to herself that her present reality could include the SGC—and everything that entailed. "Besides, your leave is up next week."

 

"I'm retired." 

 

"Not officially," she retorted mildly. "And my discharge won't be official until I've signed the papers."

 

"You don't have to accept the medical discharge," he reminded her. His gloved hands closing around hers.

 

This was old territory as well. As much as she had loved her job and being in the Air Force, she wasn't surprised, that after everything that had happened, her priorities had shifted. She squeezed his hands. "I'll still be a civilian contractor working on the Stargate program," she reminded him. 

 

"And that will be enough?" Jack looked steadily at her and she couldn't be annoyed with him, she knew his skepticism stemmed from his concern for her. 

 

"More than enough," she replied easily, knowing it was the truth. "Especially if I'm coming home to you every night."

 

He grinned. "Well, as long as I'm not out fishing or playing golf or something. Hey!" he protested when she punched his shoulder. 

 

She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Tilting her head back, she looked up at him, the stars twinkling brightly in the background. "I love you so much."

 

"No more reality blurring?" He asked the question as if the answer didn't matter, but his eyes were once more serious.

 

"I know where my reality is." 

 

The love that still sometimes amazed her flashed in those beautiful brown eyes and he dropped a kiss on her nose. He wrapped his arms around her and she tucked her face against his shoulder, slowly swaying with him in the cold starlight. "Well, you know what Groucho Marx said."

 

She stopped moving and pulled back so she could see his face. His eyes were sparkling with laughter. "No," she said cautiously, almost afraid to ask. "What did he say?"

 

"I'm not crazy about reality, but it's still the only place to get a decent meal."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Millions of miles above them, the stars twinkled brightly in the night sky; the Milky Way spiraled endlessly into infinite space. Stars were born and died, planets were transformed from barren wastelands into thriving worlds, black holes swirled and consumed the brilliant stars. Molecules combined and divided into countless more molecules; whirling and twisting in the vast whirlpools and eddies of time and space with no apparent purpose or design until, as if by accident, life was created. 

 

Chaos formed and transformed endlessly in a pattern that was the only constant in the universe. In the vastness of the limitless galaxy, the tiny blocks floated randomly, mere shadows of matter. With no purpose, they were buffeted by the gravitational pull of the stars and planets, restlessly carried on the invisible tides, until one block drifted up against another...and connected.

 

THE END


End file.
